Its a pretty exciting time to be in China right now in more ways than one. Changes - small perhaps, unnoticed not only by the West but by many even in China - are happening in quick succession.
And in the wake of the horrendous earthquake which I also spoke about in my last blog (I am assuming that no-one who is likely ever to read this lives under a rock so is aware of the details by now) something else happened this week which has never happened before in China's history. Yet another small piece in the jigsaw which will one day be viewed as the story of a countries epic journey, fell into place.
In terms of the great strides this country is making in commerce and industry the fact that a three minute silence was observed country wide at the exact moment the 'quake hit is probably not exactly rocking the West. But in the context of China's change from her traditional past those three minutes carry great weight.
For centuries China lived under dynastic rule. These dynasties exhibited in macrocosm the societal structure throughout the country. Although the three tiered strata of loyalty demanded of all citizens (Country, Emperor, Family) was adhered to in theory, in practice it was the family dynamic that held sway.
Loyalty to ones country, in a land as vast as China, was tested mainly in border disputes. To the hordes of ordinary folk, who could spend a lifetime traveling and trading across thousands of square kilometres and never set foot outside of China, it was a somewhat abstract concept. China was the Motherland and their first duty was to her. This was a a requirement which, for millions, however, was never tested.
Loyalty to the Emperor was also somewhat abstract. The Emperor and his (there was only ever one female leader) Court was a huge machine requiring hundreds of minions for its upkeep and functioning. Outside of these minions and favoured Court members however, comparatively few people were likely in their lifetimes ever to set eyes upon their supreme ruler. Indeed, so wide were China's borders and so inhospitable and inaccessible much of its terrain that news of an emperors death could take months to reach many of his subjects. By the time it did, often, they had been professing loyalty to a dead man and were unaware even of their new leader's name.
But loyalty to family: now that was a concept which framed the life of everyone from the Emperor himself down to the lowliest tiller of the fields. It can be viewed both as China's strength and as her weakness. Loyalty to family subsumes loyalty to one's employer (unless s/he is family), officials, friends, town or village: to anyone that is, below the rank of Emperor.
In the years since the end of dynastic rule loyalty to family has often been tested by the changing face of politics in China. Regimes which encouraged children to report their parents, brothers to compete with brothers or husbands and wives to place party loyalty above marriage ties have, at various times, almost succeeded in ensuring that loyalty to country was the only one of the three societal expectations to survive.
But in the thirty years since opening and expansion and, spurred on by the so-called One Child policy, family loyalties have emerged as strongly as they have ever been throughout China's 5,000 year old history.
There has always been a danger in this re-emergence of family-as-all, however. Civic duty, volunteer associations, even, it could be said in some areas, ethical business practices have not flourished here. Instead of a sense of community, a community is more a loose collection of individual families each striving for their own separate goals. This translates, in the street, to what many Westerners often see as an uncaring attitude.
I once, from a tenth floor window, watched an elderly woman belabour a child of about 5 or 6 about the head with the wooden shaft of her umbrella. The child was screaming in pain and terror and trying to shield his head while the huge lunch-time crowds surged around them. Why, I asked desperately of my class, did no-one stop her? They shrugged and looked down at the scene. Didn't they think it was pitiable, I asked. They agreed it was monstrous and expressed compassion for the small boy. One girl even had tears in her eyes. But why isn't somebody doing something? I started to push past the students and make for the stairwell, but they held me back. "It's not our business" they admonished me. "We are not family."
Service Clubs, Fire Fighters, Rescue Teams, S.E.S., Lifesavers, Meals on Wheels, ...the community service organisations that many Westerners take - if not for granted then as an indispensable part of any community, do not exist as yet in China. This is not to say that services are not administered. But it is the Army who does so.
Eighteen months ago when China allocated a larger slice than normal of expenditure to the Army America, in particular, expressed concern and fear mongers in print and in broadcast media whipped up another minor reds-under-the-beds flurry. But for soldiers who had not had a pay increase in years, who were using out-moded rescue techniques and apparatus, who had to administer to a growing population, this expenditure was necessary. Already the new helicopters, training schemes, equipment and medical apparatus have more than justified expenditure both in the severe winter which devastated the country and now in the earthquake.
And yet...for the first time, during this latest crisis, people have not been content to sit back and leave it to the Army. From all over the country people have been taking leave from offices, from factories, from shops and setting off - often through terrible conditions - to offer their services. Town and villages have got together and sent donations of food, clothing, money, water - anything that will help. A reporter trying to interview passengers in a plane which had been chartered to take some of these volunteers a few days ago was having difficulty in getting one young man to face the camera as he spoke. Eventually he turned, laughed and said "I was trying to keep my face hidden - my wife doesn't know I've come."
Whether, with their attention directed more outwardly due to the Olympic Games hype and since Lhasa, people have become more aware of how differently things are done in other countries; whether loyalty to country - which indeed has become highlighted since Lhasa - is now being seen as loyalty also to ones countrywo/men, or whether the spirit of The Olympics is indeed alive in the land...whatever the cause, there is a palpable change.
When the three minute silence was called one week to the minute after the earthquake I did not, at first, think too much about it. I remember, as a child, similar silences on the "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" which both my parents, discreetly, observed until they died. Calls for a minute or two of quiet reflection have been part of my world forever it seems.
But this was the first time, ever, in the history of China that each individual member of millions of families, no matter where they were or what they were doing, took part in a communal act such as this. Traffic halted, streets stilled, schools became silenced - even the rescue workers, streaming sweat and concrete dust and, in some cases blood, all stood with heads bowed in an act that bound the whole country - voluntarily - together.
Monday May 12th is a day that will never be forgotten by millions of Chinese. All of our hearts have been torn over the past week at the thought of entire schools full of once lively children forever silent under the ground. Some families will never recover and many peoples lives have been ripped apart. It was a tragic and black day for China.
But Monday May 19 was also a day to remember in China. It was a day yet another small piece of history was made.
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