Still living free

I have not been detained by the Chinese or locked up. I have, however, been busy. The last few days were dominated by a full schedule set up by the B.C. delegation of forestry executives and government officials who toured China shaking hands and looking for opportunities to sell lumber here. The emphasis was on the former, since no one was really selling anything while they were here. In fact, no one is selling a whole lot of lumber at any time into China, although they are honestly optimistic that they will see greater success sometime in the future.

Anyways. That will be fodder for many words in a newspaper near you sometime soon. What's more interesting is where we went: to the heart of the area devastated by the Sichuan earthquake this May. The reason, somewhat morbidly, is that Canada thinks the earthquake provides an opportunity to sell wood to Chinese who have watched their concrete homes and schools crumble. Wood is more seismically stable, therefore it makes sense that they would build out of wood, or at least so goes the argument. Either way, it led to the rather uncomfortable scene of the lions of Canada's lumber industry -- on a trip looking for markets -- lined up on a bluff overlooking Beichuan, where of 20,000 people only 10,000 survived, and 5,000 remain buried. Pat Bell, the B.C. forest minister, was only too happy to line up right at the front to deliver a speech and lay some flowers. The bigshot CEOs -- one of whom later admitted to me that he found the experience "creepy" -- stayed well back. To be fair, it was a respectful ceremony, and probably a good one, given that Canada has donated money to help with reconstruction, and it makes sense that a Canadian government representative attend to express personal condolences, etc. etc. etc. But the line between seeking opportunity and being opportunistic is a fine one in the best of times -- in this case, it seemed especially narrow.

That being said, given that I was there as well, some observations are probably in order. The scale of the disaster is extraordinary. We visited four separate sites that had been affected by the earthquake. Each of them took a bus ride of multiple hours to reach, each in different directions. Beichuan was obviously the most notable: this pretty little town nestled in a mountain valley was just demolished. A number of medium-rise buildings were canted at frightening angles; others were missing an entire storey, after one floor collapsed; others had fallen down altogether. The high school was no longer visible. Some 1,500 teachers and students had attended the school, but you would never know it from looking out over the valley today because the entire structure has been buried by a massive landslide. There was literally no trace that the high school ever existed, at least not from our vantage point.

In other cities, the damage was less pronounced but no less devastating. We drove through one area where kilometres of six-storey apartments -- the standard urban living accommodations -- stood on both sides of the road, empty. The reason was obvious: the facades were completely cracked through. The buildings were no longer safe. Most of those who once lived there had been moved into temporary shelters built by the Chinese government, whose response was swift, effective and made the U.S. post-Katrina look like a real third-world country. In one of the more heart-wrenching realities, however, the businesses on the ground floor of many of these buildings remained open, literally operating beneath impending doom. Not only are these buildings already structurally unsound, the earthquakes continue, raising even higher the possibility that they will tumble on those trying to carry out work below. We experienced a 5.1-scale aftershock on one of the mornings we were there, although I didn't feel it myself.

It was all a lot to take in. Perhaps the most striking thing for me was the people, who remained quick with a smile despite their circumstances. I did not speak with many of them, and can't say whether or not they are carrying on with optimism or are genuinely defeated by what they have been through. Certainly, virtually everyone alive in those areas has lost someone very close to them. Others have been further impoverished by the temporary habitations, which were built over farmer's fields with little regard for the livelihood of those farmers. But to a white guy who doesn't speak Mandarin, but can see a smile when it's smiling at him, the apparent ability to remain upbeat seemed striking.

As for me, I'm now in Shanghai, but only for a few more hours. I leave on a flight tonight for Guangzhou, where I am meeting another Canadian company working here and planting trees. It's interesting stuff. I am getting a little forested out, but I guess that's what I came here to do. Personally, I feel like I am entering the most challenging part of this trip. While the forestry entourage definitely glossed over China, having travel and meals arranged made everything simple. Now it falls to me to figure out how to order food in Chinese, and how to convince a cabbie to get me to the correct destination. I've been cramming with my Mandarin phrase book, but not making much progress so far. At least I now have reason to learn, which should speed up the process. I'll consider myself wildly successful if I can learn to make even the most basic of requests understood. I can't say I'm optimistic about getting there, though.