it's true

I am sure some of you have heard the rumor by now, and though I hate to admit it publicly, it is true--my bike was stolen. Now, before everyone gets rilled up at the audacity of a Chinese person so come on my campus, track down my bike and break the lock to carry it off--first hear this: I left my keys in the lock. Oh, I would love to say it isn't true--that some barbaric thief took off with it in the night, but the truth is I was practically begging someone to take my bike in broad daylight. I had just come back from the open market selling fruits and vegetables, feeling particularly proud of myself for conquering my fear of bargaining for produce, when I found my bike was missing. Appalled that someone would go to all the trouble to break the lock for my measly little bike, I frantically put down my armloads of produce and began dumping out my bag. My keys were 100% absent. On top of this, the same key chain that held my bike key also held the keys to my apartment building gate and my apartment door key. I realized that not only did I have no bike, I also had no way of getting into my building, and furthermore someone had my keys that had been so cleverly marked with my building and apartment number. The chances of me being murdered in my sleep had just escalated. I was sitting on the curb, surrounded by produce and the contents of my bag, wondering what to do next, when our gatekeeper Auntie Yang came cycling by. She saw me and came over. Despite the fact that she understands no English, I managed to convey to her that my bike was gone. She called some security guards over and everybody discussed it for a long time. I had no way of explaining to them in Chinese that my house key had also been taken. Finally a grad. student noticed the commotion and came over. She spoke a little English, so I told her I had left my keys in the bike and now that the bike was gone so was my house key. She nodded and explained this to Auntie Yang who responded. This girl turned back and replied "She says your bike is gone because you left your keys in it." "Yes, I know!" I cried "That is not the point, my house key is gone, I can't get into my apartment." "Oh" she said and translated. "Auntie Yang says next time you shouldn't leave your key in your bike, otherwise someone will take it." Ahgrr. I tried explaining myself again and she translated. "Auntie Yang says your bike is gone, you shouldn't worry about looking for it, someone has taken it because you left your key in it." I was almost to the point of tears (as you might remember from the post entitled "the day i spent a week in the gobi desert" it doesn't take much to bring me to tears) not only did I not need to be reminded one more time that I had been really ridiculously stupid by forgetting to take my keys out of the lock, but also I was standing in a sea of fruit and vegetables and my emptied-out bag and all I wanted to do was get into my apartment. During all of this conversation and translation, I realized the shopping bag in the front basket of Auntie Yang's bike was making noises and moving. Finally, curiosity got the best of me and I leaned over to peek in the shopping bag, and there was a rooster. A rooster, of all things to carry in your bike basket. The conversation stopped momentarily and the grad. student translated for Auntie Yang who was now making clucking noises "It is a chicken." Obviously they assumed anyone silly enough to leave their keys in their lock would also, naturally, be unable to identify farm animals. Finally, at some point, it clicked (or clucked) and Auntie Yang realized I didn't have my house keys. Next came a tirade of what pretty much ended up to be "Why didn't you tell me that in the first place!" And we set off to remedy the problem. Luckily, I am moving tomorrow and can stop laying awake wondering if the person that has my key is going to drop in unexpectedly.

p.s. please excuse any errors in the post as I am typing on a computer that's keyboard is completely void of letters due to a massive amount of wear on the keys. For the most part I know where all the letters should be, but sometime I mistype and can't find the right letter!

feeling helpful?

These pictures were taken by my Chinese friend Zheng Si Si while she was in Lhasa. She visited Dickey Orphanage (Dickey means happiness in Tibetan) where a Tibetan woman who owned a teahouse decided to start an orphanage for Tibetan children in 1991. In the past 14 years the number of orphans she supports has swelled from 12 to 81. Unlike most orphanages in China, the Dickey Orphanage is privately owned, so despite their poverty, the owner works hard to make sure these children get an education and experience a loving environment. Zheng Si Si said she was surprised by how joyful and outgoing the children were as a result of their caring upbringing. These orphans are still supported only through the money the teahouse (also pictured with the blue sign: The Snowland Happiness Teahouse) brings in which around 200 kuai a day, or about 25 dollars. Otherwise, it relies on the donations of Tibetans, Chinese and foreigners. Upon her return to Hangzhou, Zheng Si Si has been working to drum up donations of clothing and money for these children. I thought I would mention it to my faithful blog-readers, in case anyone feels like helping out or knows anyone that would like to help out. So, if you are interested in helping, or know someone who is interested in helping (maybe a great cause for a hall activity, sorority, fraternity, church group or any other helpful organization or individual) please let me know (via email or phone, not posting, please). I also have some more pictures of the orphanage, teahouse and individual children if you are interested.

don't you know the piggers??

Wei ni hao. Nothing much new here. Yesterday, a new friend, Bao He Jun took me out on the grand tour of Hangzhou. We visited the city centre square, some shopping districts and West Lake. We ventured out on a fishing boat to visit the islands that dot the lake (one island is called "three pools mirroring the moon" now that is romantic) It was great to spend a day out practicing my Chinese (did I mention that I've had my first lesson with a tutor......I need some serious practice). Bao He Jun also taught me how to work my rice cooker (minus the rice b/c I didn't have any in the apartment, but I think I got the general idea). Futhermore, I have been reminded by a good friend that there is little point in planning a formula for balancing Chinese and American life--I just should passionately act, live, and love and somehow things will fall into place in their own time and in their own way. So, I'll be trying that, rather than worring about everything!

i'm not creative enough to think of a title right now

I had the most amazing wake-up call this morning. My parents decided to have a little party with veggie pizza (ah, my favorite) and chocolate and invite some friends (my friends) over to call me. I was too suprised! Aren't they great parents and friends? Yes, the are. So I spent several hours this morning talking to my Aunt Jane, Susan Tharp, Corrine, Christy, Emily and my mom and dad. It was absolutely the best morning a person could ever have. I was afraid when everyone hung up that I would be a wee bit depressed, but I was actually inspired and I ventured out to explore this crazy place on my bike. Unfortunately I am a little dangerous on my bike, but I managed to stay alive. The sidewalks here are not just for people walking--they are for people, bikes, pets, farm animals, mopeds, vendors, cars, taxis and the occasional bus--sometimes I think the street is safer than sidewalk! In the long run, I did cause one small bicycle accident--but it actually wasn't on account of my horrible cycling techniques--someone just decided to stop watching where they were going to turn around and stare at the foreigner riding a bike (what?????? white people can ride bikes too???????) and there for ran smack into some man intersecting her path. Ha. Now she knows that staring at foreigners is not productive. But, in my cycling I discovered the bamboo forest, which is exactly what is sounds like, and the shortest route to West Lake (the site that makes Hangzhou famous).
I am having a problem for which I would love some helpful advice. I am having trouble trying to balance my life here with my life in America. It seems that I want to find things here, food, music, friends, housing appliances that mimic my life at home. I want to email, blog, write letters, and talk on the phone with my community at home b/c I still want to be a part of that life. But, I am in China. I haven't come all this way just to duplicate my life at home as closely as possible. But, at the same time, I can't just start a new Chinese life--I'm not strong enough and the people at home are too important. So, where does that leave me? In a dither of dichotomous tension--I need balance, but I am having trouble finding it! Suggestions and monetary gifts are welcome.

H-town at last

Well, I am here now. I moved into an apartment that will be my home for the next two weeks. They are gutting my next apartment currently (it is next door and exactly the same as where I live now, why I have to move I have no idea). Until I move I won't have internet in my room so I am using the net-bar down the street. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Also, the Chinese think it is really interesting to stand behind me and watch while I type and try to read the English. I actually don't like this game as much as they do. Anyway, Hangzhou is a nice city. The rainy weather and horrid pollution complicate the breathing situation, but things could be worse. I bought a bicycle yesterday and I've actually ridden the city bus twice by myself (I got off at the right stop only once though) so I am feeling more independent. I miss talking though (strange). I can go all day now w/o talking to anyone (but myself). It isn't bad, it is just strange. I don't know when school starts. My boss has told me so far the 1st, or the 4th, or the 5th. This isn't helpful. Tomorrow, though, I will meet with the vice-dean of the college and the dean of the english dept. and hopefully get a schedule and more info. I need your help though. I won't have a book to teach out of so I will plan all the lessons out of my head (dangerous). I hope to dedicate each week to a faction of life (i.e. friends, family, health, celebrations etc.) and each day to an aspect of this faction (so if we are talking about health: exercise, hygiene, not smoking etc.) and simply learn vocab about the topic and discuss etc. But, I need more help. There are a hell of a lot of school days in a year. If you have any ideas for factions or sub-faction topics email me. It doesn't matter if you think they are creative or not. Anything works! Hope to talk to all of you soon!

The day I spent a week in the Gobi Desert..........

The account of a journey I don't plan on ever taking again: I left from Lhasa bright and early Monday morning. Despite my bright and earliness, we barely made it to the plane taking us to Xining. Unfortunately, our Land Cruiser broke down on the way to the airport (have I heard this story somewhere before...?). Funnily enough, it was the exact same Land Cruiser and driver that took us to Everest and broke down on the way. Oh, the irony.....anyway, we did make it (barely...the airport people always want to take our diet cokes away when we go through security, it is highly annoying and sort of a sore spot). After arriving in Xining, we hopped a bus for an hour to the bus station. Next, we transferred to another bus for a 4-hour ride to Lanzhou. We had read in Lonely Planet that Lanzhou is notorious for getting passengers stranded at the train station. For some reason, we though b/c of our forward thinking planning, we would be an exception to this. When we got to the station, we found that all trains to Dunhuang were booked for the next three days. Oh my. After about two hours, Ann accidentally ran into a train-ticket-broker who sold her two over-priced tickets for a 9 hour train ride in hard-sleeper to Jiayuguan. The person told us Jiayuguan was only 2 hours from Dunhuang via bus. We decided that moving in was better than staying put. In the meantime, I was asked to join a religion that is illegal in China by a street evangelist and I also got in trouble with a policeman for loitering. Eventually, we hopped on the train around 10.30 pm. The next morning, we found ourselves in the desert town of Jiayuguan. Immediately, we went to the information desk. We found that the bus to Dunhuang actually took 10 hours (apparently the broker was a little off on her estimation) and the train took 4-5 but didn't leave until the evening. We decided to take the train (not really a difficult decision) and spend the day seeing the western end of the great wall (neither of us had ever seen it). The day actually, aside from our tiredness, was very fun--involving lots of climbing, camel-riding, and jiaoza-eating. We prepared for the train that evening. As we got on we found out that actually, we had "no-seat" tickets. In China there are five classes of train tickets, decreasing in comfort and price: soft-sleeper, hard-sleeper, soft-seat, hard-seat, and no-seat. Usually, with a no-seat ticket, one can just find an empty hard-seat and take it. This situation was different. Being as the hard-seat cars on the train are one of the cheapest ways to travel in China, half the population of China is actually in one car. There are families that have been riding the train for two days or more, camped out with their kids, family pets and farm animals. There isn't a spot for luggage, so it just sits on the floor or in the aisle. Then, there are all the no-seat people sleeping on the floor under the seats, in the aisle, in between cars or in the bathroom. We boarded the train with all our luggage (we both had a backpack and a medium-sized suitcase on wheels). We found two empty seats and settled. There is something about the Chinese when they are communicating. Not only is the language a very harsh language, but they also have a habit of yelling irritably, even though they may not really even be angry. It is very intimidating, especially to me (I hate hate hate getting in trouble). All this to say, though we thought the seats were unoccupied, they actually were people's assigned seats that had gotten off the train for food. When they came back, there was an outrage. Ok, please imagine a car of over 100 chinese people who have had two days of train riding with nothing interesting. Already, seeing the only foreigners on the train is exciting. Seeing the only foreigners on the train being completely chewed out by angry Chinese, is even more interesting. Seeing the youngest foreigner burst into uncontrollable crying is even better than that. Ann kept telling me to stay put but everyone was yelling at us and the person next to me was trying to bodily push me out of the seat for the Chinese man. I couldn't understand anything that anyone was saying and I was so tired. I realized I couldn't make it in this culture of yelling and disregard for politeness and this language that I have no hope of ever understanding and the dam just burst. Once the dam burst, it was over, I was hysterical. I knew I had to get a grip, but I couldn't. The faces of my family and friends kept appearing in my head one after the other and I couldn't believe I had left such an amazing community to come here....I felt that I would never see them again and I couldn't stand it. Before long, the whole car was silent and standing at our end of the car, simply watching the foreigner in hysterics. That everyone was silently watching me made me embarrassed and I cried more. I tried to get up so I could just leave and go to another car, but the Chinese around me wouldn't let me get up. They thought I was responding to them not wanting me to sit, and they all felt so bad they wouldn't allow me to stand up. This made everything worse. I was honestly a sight. Ann left to see if there was a place we could sit (away from this car) in the dining cart. While she was gone, an English-speaking Chinese student came and asked me what was wrong. There was no explaining, of course. He said "cammie, everyone is watching you, so you shouldn't cry." That didn't help. Then, people on the car started passing water bottles and fruit to me. Soon, I had a lap full of peaches and bottles, but I couldn't lift up my head to look into the eyes of these people. I was mortified. The student kept saying, "see, Chinese are really very nice." "I--I--I know!" I would sob back. Pathetic, it was really pathetic. Long story short, Ann and I made it to the food car. I ate some peaches and water and got a grip (a tentative grip) and we returned to the car. Everyone was seated again and when we came in they got so excited. For a few hours we stood by the car door--Ann started leading English lessons for the entire car and handing out bananas to everyone (except to the man next to me who was throwing up in a bag he had...). It was all very comical in the end. Once we got off the train, we found a taxi driver to take us to the hotel we had reserved. We both thought the price he quoted was too high, but we were too tired to argue. TWO HOURS of desert driving later, we arrived in Dunhuang (apparently the Dunhuang train stop isn't actually IN Dunhuang) and found our hotel around 2. The next day we went to see the caves and spent some more time riding camels in the desert. On Thursday we got on a plane to Shanghai and on Friday a bus here to Hangzhou. I have no desire to return to the Gobi desert for as long as I live.

Call me if you can!

Cammie cannot check her email or post a blog in China right now. She is working on it, and hopes to have it available within the next 2 weeks. (She is not sure whether or not gmail is firewalled - so she may be getting a new account).
If you want to contact her, she has a phone number now. The cheapest calling plans are with Tel 3 Advantage (for 3-4 cents/min). The link is here on "Call me" - go to the link, call their 800 number (it's much easier than registering online).
After you sign up, Cammie can be reached at 0118613600532050.
I (Katie) spoke with her yesterday, and she is preparing to start teaching, moving to a different apartment, seeking new friendships, and trying to navigate the complicated bus system and language of a massive city. She called me at 7:30 am, so I think that is late evening for her.

some call me cammie "mountain goat" brennan.....

I'm back. I did it. I conquered Everest.....base camp that is...... I just got back a few hours ago from a smashing good weekend. As you know, we found a third person to go with us. Nick ended up not being a murderer at all! He is a fabulous professor in the north of England and is a professional photographer/videographer. We set off Wed. Morning with our Tibetan driver and guide to drive 250 km. to Shigatse and then Lhaste. The trip was fairly uneventful, consisting of Ann and I getting to know Nick and marveling and the amazing scenery. We had to stop once when a truck ahead of us fell into this hole. It was right in front of a village so when the westerners got out to stretch, all the village kids came running asking for money, food, pencils etc. After we got through that, Nick and I started taking pictures with our digital cameras. Despite adult Tibetans being very wary of cameras, the kids love it. It was a great bridge in communication. Most of them have never seen a picture of themselves and would scream with delight when they saw themselves on the back of the camera and then run back in front of you so you could take their picture again. It was a great game that could have gone on for hours, but eventually we had to go one. The second day was different. We left Lhatse to hit some serious road construction (at least 150 km of it) on the two-lane dirt mountain road to Rongbuk. About two hours in, the car stopped running. No matter how many times the driver (Tensing) tried to readjust things under the hood it wouldn't not restart. Finally our guide said, "big problem. no petrol." And with that the driver suddenly disappeared into someone else's land cruiser going the opposite direction. Our guide (Dawa) explained that he was going back to Lhatse (2 hours one way) to get fuel.......cut to five hours later.......Dawa, our guide, has also disappeared. Despite Ann's yelling at him that he could not leave us, he got into someone else's car and headed back to Lhatse. Before he did this, he had turned the ignition on in the car and it had run for two hours. By the time the driver came back with fuel, the battery was dead, Dawa was gone, and there was an hail storm going on. The driver, speaking no English tried for about 30 minutes to start the car when finally Ann stepped out in the street and hailed a Chinese bus headed towards Shigar (about 3 hours from Rongbuk). But, once we got on the standing room only bus, we realized the driver didn't follow us. We were on our way to Mt. Everest with no driver, no car, no guide, no place to stay, no papers to be traveling on this road and no permit to get into Everest. Three and a half hours of awful dirt-mountain-road driving on a bus we ended up in Shigar. We found a place to stay and called Lhasa for some serious assistance. Eventually, we were reunited with our driver, our car, our papers and permit but our guide never returned. We drove on to Rongbuk the next day. I wish there was a way I could explain Mt. Everest. It was simply wonderful. The first day it was there, it was cloudy and we watched the mountain peak in and out of clouds. The next morning, the view was stunning. The sky was perfectly clear and the mountain lay in front of the monastery in which we were staying in all its glory. (whenever I am reunited with my own computer, I will post a picture). That morning, I wandered around the monastery drinking in the sights, smells and sounds of a Buddhist monastery at the foot of Everest. While I was meandering, I ran into a young nun. I greeted her in Tibetan and she answered in English, very good English actually. She (her name is An Droma) was fascinated by my digital watch and wanted to know for how much I would sell it to her. While I've been asked several times for my watch in Tibet, no one has ever offered to buy it. I took it off and gave it to her and said "no money." She smiled a priceless smile, grabbed my hand and took me into her "cell". It was a tiny dark room with a tiny naked old woman sitting on the bed. She explained that it was her mother and that she was blind so she took care of her. She asked me to join them for Yak butter tea (um, that is rancid yak butter put in a churn with boiling water and churned until it is mixed, actually I hate it with all that is within me). Of course I said I would love to join them for some tea. We spent the next hour drinking yak butter tea, eating barely powder and sharing stories. Before I left, An Droma reached for a necklace on her shelf. She explained that she had gotten it from a temple when she went to Nepal with her parents and that it had a picture of the Buddhist goddess of compassion on it. Despite my protests, she tied it around my neck, making it clear that it was in trade for the watch. I've never received a gift so precious.

the Ding Dang Cat

Hi kids. I leave for Mt. Everest Base camp tomorrow. It is a two day trip one way via jeep. Ann and I found a British fellow to go with us so the cost is split three ways. In case you never hear from me again, his name is Nick Cope (um, Em, could you maybe have Mark do a background check on him? I don't fancy myself in a jeep for four days with a murderer!). After Mt. Everest, it is on to Xining, Lanzhou, Dunhuang, Shanghai and Hangzhou. I'll be back into Lhasa for one day, so I will hopefully post again then (pending I still have all my fingers), otherwise, it might be when I get to Hangzhou. I miss you all!

I heart yaks

Today has been rough. I've been full of internal angst. This morning, one of the group members suggested that since it was Sunday, we ought to observe the Sabbath by discussing what Tibetan Buddhism means to our Christianity (whatever the hell that is supposed to mean). Normally I'm up at least listening to a discussion about religion. But I blanched at the thought of this group, who has been doing nothing but criticizing the Tibetan Buddhists in order to promote their own feelings of right-ness and chosen-ness. I am by no means an expert on the subject of Buddhism, but I am venturing to say that neither is anyone else in the group. I don"t understand the self-righteousness of Christians. In their effort to save the world, they condemn it in the process. (I realize that I, too, am being self-righteous by suggesting that I know a better way to go about the practice of religion, but the thing is, I don't know a better way, all I know is that there is no way that this sort of evangelical, pompous, presumptuous method can be it). I kept my mouth shut though, and I shouldn't have. Clues have been dropped that perhaps some of these people in the group may be giving donations to support me. In light of this news, I've tried to make myself as pleasing as possible. I realized, on the way to Ganden monastery today, what an awful idea that was. I'm so ashamed that I have let my desire for MONEY get in the way of me standing up for what I believe in and standing up for the people that I love. ARHG! I honestly can't believe myself sometimes. So, I had this epiphany only to completely abandon my steadfastness a few hours later. On the way back from Ganden, the plan was to eat lunch. The rest of the group balked at the idea of eating AND riding in the jeep (heaven forbid) and wanted to sit at the road and eat. Normally I wouldn't give a shit one way or another, but as soon as the people walking on the road realized we were foreigners, I group of children gathered around our open windows, pushing their faces and hands in asking for food. Immediately I was sick. Here we were, a jeep full of fat Americans (and CHRISTIANS, no less) and outside were 10 starving Tibetan children wanting some food. All I wanted to do was leave, I was frustrated the others saw it as fine to just sit and eat while they watched. That is the problem with me, see, if something is uncomfortable, I want to just leave so I don't have to experience the uncomfortableness, instead of taking action to just do something. I should have given them the bread and carrots that I ate, but I knew one has to be careful because of the phenomenon of pimping children out in China. Instead of most of the starving children on the street being just starving, they are "working" for a pimp who actually enjoys all the goods (money, food etc) of what the children collect--the children aren't really working at all b/c they get nothing for their efforts and are actually starved more or maimed to make them more pitiful to passer-byers. There's a catch 22. By feeding/giving money to children on the street, you aren't helping them but supporting the pimp. By not giving, you are endangering them that they may be hurt for not collecting enough. God, what kind of fucking world is this? All this to say, I don't know. I should have given them something, maybe...? Or I should have at least told the group--what the hell are we doing eating in front of these pitiful children.......? But, instead I just buried my head in my arms and waited for it to be over. It makes me no better than anyone else in that damn jeep. I don't know what I am doing here--how I can even begin to help...Even if I knew a starting place would I actually do it? Or just put my head down. Sorry this is a depressing, angry email. I hope no one was looking for a pick-me-up.

can you believe it?

well shit. I found this article (in bold) while searching google....it took me awhile b/c most sites that discuss it are blocked. so strange, i've never in all my time in china realized how crazy the control is. So, I've done some research and opened a new blog : http://cammie.blog-city.com. it hasn't been actually created yet, so no need to check it out. i will just keep blindly posting on blogspot until i have some time to really spruce things up. i'll let you know when the cross-over time comes. once again, email me if you want to talk. peace out.
Dozens of arrests
Ever since the Communist party took power in 1949, the Chinese media has been tightly controlled by the government. Online publishing is a real threat to that control, and the government is clearly worried. A crackdown in 2003 closed websites and internet cafes and saw the arrest of dozens of online commentators.
Yet this is not proving enough to stifle the pluck and ingenuity of China’s bloggers. The rise of the blog phenomenon was made possible by blog-hosting services. Just as companies like Yahoo host email accounts, sites like blogger.com, based in the United States, host blogs.
Blogs usually allow room for readers’ comments, and because they often contain numerous links to other blogs and websites, they each act as a unit in a dynamic community. Together they form an interconnected whole – the “blogosphere”.
When Mao and Zheng started CNBlog.org, China had 67 million internet users. Today, it has more than 90 million, and most are hungry for information. The official China Internet Network Information Center in Beijing says 62% of internet users go online primarily to read news. Internet cafes are spreading rapidly throughout China, even in rural areas, largely thanks to official efforts to promote technology and improve the country’s economic competitiveness.
Great Firewall of China
But the government also fears that uncontrolled online information will cause the regime to collapse. Since 2000 China’s police force has established internet departments in more than 700 cities and provinces.
The net police monitor websites and email for “heretical teachings or feudal superstitions” and information “harmful to the dignity or interests of the state”. Since 2002, all internet service providers have had to sign a self-censorship pledge before they can operate.
Perhaps the most effective component of government control is the “Great Firewall”, which protects the nine gateways connecting China to the global internet. Its main function is to prevent surfers in China from accessing “undesirable” web content.
Research at the Berkman Center at Harvard University has found that blocked sites include overseas Chinese-language news websites, such as BBC Chinese, and most news sites originating in Taiwan and Hong Kong; and religious and human-rights websites such as Falun Gong and Amnesty International USA.
But things were starting to change when Mao began his grass-roots publishing effort. Technology writer Fang Xingdong in Beijing, who made his name with a book criticising Microsoft’s business in China, started a news and commentary website, BlogChina.com, which covers the development of China’s IT industry.
Zero cost
Fang coined the Chinese term bo ke to mean blogger. He encouraged his readers to try blogging by registering on blogger.com. “Blogging is a true revolution,” he wrote. “One needs zero technology training, zero institution and zero cost to become a blogger.”
By January 2003, China had about 2000 bloggers when, without warning, the Chinese government blocked all access to blogspot.com, the server that hosts all blogs registered on blogger.com.
The net police do not make the reasons for such actions public, but Chinese bloggers point out that DynaWeb, an anti-censorship service run by overseas Chinese, had been using a blog on blogspot.com to publish proxy server addresses that allowed users to get around the Great Firewall. The authorities’ blanket blockade affected all China’s bloggers, leaving them suddenly unable to reach their journals.
The censors probably did not anticipate the bloggers’ response. For many, blogging had become an addictive activity. With nowhere else to go, many followed Mao’s lead and started to look for solutions inside China.
Three small start-ups offered them a refuge; Blogcn.com, Blogdriver.com and Blogbus.com. All were blog-hosting services started just a couple of months earlier by people who had first gathered on Mao’s website. All were based inside China, and inside the Great Firewall.
Banning “truth”
At first, the new companies attracted little attention from the government. In early 2003, most Chinese who wanted to comment online were using not blogs, but online forums like bulletin boards and chat rooms. These allowed people to express themselves anonymously and therefore safely, and were already beginning to have a social impact.
But there is a catch. Whether in China or elsewhere, such sites are usually moderated by editors who keep them relevant and readable. In China, the moderators also keep their sites’ content acceptable to the censor, so when users try to post a “forbidden” comment they receive a warning message such as “your post contains sensitive and indecent contents”.
Posts on politically sensitive topics, such as Falun Gong, human rights, democracy, and Taiwan independence, are routinely filtered by this means. A list recently obtained by the China Internet Project in Berkeley found that over 1000 words, including “dictatorship”, “truth”, and “riot police” are automatically banned in China’s online forums.
This type of censorship is part of the wider internet crackdown that intensified in 2003. Dozens of people who published politically provocative articles online were arrested.
The net police closed almost half of the country’s 200,000 internet cafes, and installed surveillance software in the rest. In Liaoning province, where 40% of the people who go online do so in internet cafes, software was installed in 7000 cafes to track track web users’ online movements and keep records of their names, addresses and ID numbers.

this is the deal........

since I've come to China, I haven't been able to get to my blog--I don't know if it is being blocked for the whole of China, or if its just something about Tibet that causes me not to be able to open it. Apparently I can post b/c I got an email about the altitude sickness. All this to say, I'm going to keep trying once I get out of Tibet, and I may even keep posting, but it's kind of silly to have an online journal if I can't manage it and communicate with people.....anyway, if you want to drop me a line, be sure to use my email address (cammiebrennan@gmail.com). hmmm, that is all for now........

tis the season for altitude sickness

I've made it to China, not only China, but Tibet. Of course, its brilliant. It is everything I remember it to be and more. This time. however, my company is different. Instead of Ann and Amanda, I am the only one under 60 in our group of 8. Ha. It makes me laugh, just about constantly. Unfortunately, this being our first day here, they all. except Ann have altitude sickness and are needing oxygen. Oh boy. It is also raining, so I figured I'd spend some time catching up on email. Tomorrow Ann and I are going to the Jookan temple (the most holy in all of Tibet) to meet our friend-monk from last year (anyone remember the-Tibetan-karaoke-in-the-monk-rec-room-drink-Coke-out-shot-glasses-with-strawberries-on-them story from last year?) Anyway, he is hopefully going to take us to the temple's "room of broken things" where a broken bell is that was cast hundreds of years ago in Italy for a Catholic church in Tibet and was then stolen during a war and was used in the Jookan temple to wake Buddha up every morning until it broke. It should be exciting. After that we are going to do a little village trekking. I would love to hear how all of you are doing. I'm thinking about you and missing you!!

lessons in loving.......my body

The past days, I have been visiting Kyoto. A city in Japan famous for its beauty. I visited more Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines that a person should have to shake a stick at, eat a fair amount of raw fish, and did some traditional Japanese art. It was wonderful. While I was there, I was troubled though. Because I am often worried about my physical appearance, in terms of weight, it is difficult for me to be in a culture (such as Japan or China) that is very frank about physical appearance. It is normal for comments on weight to be thrown about like you would throw about comments on height. `oh, you are tall. Oh, you are fat.` It isn`t meant to be hurtful, its just the truth. Anyway, I thought I had prepared myself for this. I hadn`t. Since I arrived, old friends have been commenting on my weight (in a negative way). I had been trying to put it aside. Reminding myself that Asian body types are different that Western and all that is really important is eating healthy, exercising and feeling good about yourself. Well, this rope of salvation finally snapped on the way to Kyoto. We were staying at a traditional Japanese inn and Oka-san reminded me that the bath was public in the inn. Everyone goes in the same room, gets naked, showers and then soaks in the hot bath. I had a minor/major flip out. I don`t even like to change my clothes when people are in the same room but not looking. This task seemed impossible. I decided to just wait and shower in a few days when I came back. Oka-san and Makiko understood me to be just being silly. A choice of taking a bath or not was not really being offered (I, by the way, now understand how Fiona feels when I make her take a bath even when she is throwing a fit about it). All this to say, I finally realized how much I was letting this upset me and how actually ridiculous it was......it`s just and effing body!! So, I took a deep breath and did it. And....it was ok. The was some hilarious pandemonium (chaos when no one is wearing clothes, is slightly more funny than regular chaos) that helped me to just chill out. I`m glad I don`t really ever have to do it again. But, it didn`t kill me .
It is strange for me though, the magic that Japan once held for me is gone. I don`t know if it because I am older, because of my serious mood of moving, or what. Bizarro. Just the same, it was fun. The Kimuras are giving me good practice for my job as an English teacher. It some times makes me nervous though...I don`t always know the answers. I am leaving tomorrow morning for China, and the next day Tibet. I don`t know when I`ll get a chance to write again.

do you see what I see??

what the...?