Ultimate Chelsea Experience

By April Zhang

Two weeks before Christmas, in fashionable West London, I lost myself. To be more precise, it was thirty minutes prior to an England Premiership clash between Chelsea and Arsenal, in the middle of a packed Stanford Bridge square that I found myself lost. The square was an arena of warm – up round. People wore their positions, either blue or red. I had to detach from the clamor of chatting, debating, whistle blowing and booming songs to get a grab on myself. I saw a crowd of Chelsea supporters crunching beef burger. In England, eating beef burger while watching a game was said to be a habit as old as soccer itself. So I struggled out three pounds and took one. twenty minutes left. People started to queue for entry. There were still more streaming in from every direction.
“Hey, want a ticket?” I was in the queue when a man jumped out of blue. As I was figuring out what he meant, my teammate took it for me, “no, we are good.” The man elbowed away and I realized that he was a scalper. “You know how much your ticket is worth now?” my teammate pulled out two fingers, “more than 200 pounds. It could exceed 250 in ten minutes.”
It’s like ages since 50 pence could afford a spot on the Shed End terrace (the first standings of Stanford Stadium). In fact, it’s less than four years since the near bankrupt west London club was breathed back to life and since emerged as a global brand; it’s less than two decades since soccer waved bye – bye to its “good old days” when no huge influx of money was seen and since became a most lucrative business in all walks of life.
Chelsea club virtually went bankrupt in the late 70's, the then owners almost sold the Stamford Bridge site to property developers to pay off debts when a Russian oil giant，Abramovich，came to messianic rescue. Four days from bankruptcy, he bought the club at a fraction of his company’s market value. He immediately signed a string of checks, one to hire a shark manager, one to pay off club debts, one to buy talents and one to start youth training camp. Total spending approached 300 million pounds, a well match to the boss’s goal. He wanted his club to be an ace.
“Only those who supported Chelsea before Abramovich bought it are entitled to real die – hards,” said Song Yu Hang, who owed a six – year – old allegiance to this club, “I began to love the club when it had neither money nor titles and I still do now. It’s not about business. Soccer should be a sport more than a business, Chelsea is a club rather than a brand.”
That is a real supporter, ardent and idealist. Yet, however unwilling to accept, soccer has been an entirely commercial – natured sports show since England Premiership took shape in the early 90’s. Big clubs were unhappy sharing interests with small potatoes and coined a full – fledged system to maximize profit. Small and poor clubs were excluded from this top ranking games round; those qualified to stay in the arena were well manned and equipped, and thus secured the performance and audience. So, Adidas and Umbro were happy to swap generous money for the players wearing their brand on chest; Rupert Murdoch was willing to fork out hundreds of millions pounds for television right; Club bosses’ pockets bulged.
Top clubs are often owned by powerful heads and mega billionaires. The clubs worshipped by fans are nothing special than other members in their business empire. Manchester United has made a vivid case of it. Hundreds years of history, three trophies in one year and a David Beckham, the team’s brand attracted the interest of a mega – rich sports investor American Malcolm Glazer. Quite unlike Abramovich, however, Glazer is lamented for his interest. On May 16, 2005, he shirked off his own whopping 300 million pounds of debt on ManU. Glazer walked away but ManU almost missed entry to the Champions League for financial incompetence. On that day, the Irish Times (Ireland has the biggest ManU fan base outside of Manchester) ran the headline: "The Day Football Finally Lost Its Soul."
Timothy Taylor, an award-winning journalist and author, also a longtime Chelsea supporter wrote in the latest issue of The Walrus, a Canada’s magazine “Start with a product that delivers value; Develop a core message and brand personality; Create iconography. What successful sports team is not set on this fundamental tripod? In soccer, value is winning games; brand personality is an articulated team spirit that involves fans and name, jersey, logo, mascot make perfect iconography.”
According to him, soccer is a born business and the larger game off squad is played with business rules. Abramovich can salvage Chelsea with his money; Glazer can put Man U at stake for his money; David Beckham can part with Manchester for Madrid and finally to America, if not entirely, largely because of money. Bogged down in the quagmire, this sport starts to disappoint and hurt people who love it so much.
“There is a worry that the game of football has become disconnected from fans, that the game has basically become a business, not a sport.” wrote Taylor. “Branding, marketing, and television rights all tend to confirm these worries among supporters.”
If money had played the devil, the devil smiled angel – like all the time. Gone are the days when Shed End terrace was piss – stained and crammed. The humble premise had given way to today’s most modernized stadium. What’s used to be filled with thugs, dipsos, headbangers and, frequently, racists is now the stadium’s best Family Box (2004 – 2005). At night, with all roofed spotlights on, the stadium is even brighter than in daylight. There is a reason for 250 pounds ticket.
Clubs and games are no longer geographically confined. Like tonight, Stanford Bridge is grounded with football tourists from all over the world. When I left hotel, I saw a fan from the States checking in; three days ago when a Champions League game between Chelsea and Levski Sofia occurred, supporters from Bulgaria came down here to cheer for their team. We, as well, have come half the world to watch this game by the field.
Clubs like Chelsea, have transformed from local to global. "We need to increase our international fan base," Chelsea chairman Bruce Buck said in an interview with British Industry magazine. The club had signed long – time partnership deals with Samsung and Adidas, multinationals whose produce and sale chain wind across the world. Sports shoes and caps with Chelsea logo are on racks of Adidas shops in London, New York and Beijing. The club has declared the wish to have its first squad team visit China in 2008. That news would give Chinese fans quite a thrill.
On the north side of Stanford Bridge square erected a wall running tens of meters. It was painted with the latest club photo. First team squad, coach panel, second team and supporting staff were in the middle. Those standing further left and right were said to be Chelsea fans from all over the world. Players and fans, all dressing in renewed squad jerseys, formed a blue windbreak, ready to contend with the fiercest storm. Five minutes before the game got started. I was at the entrance. “We're going to win the league! We’re going to win the league!” songs rolled from inside the stadium. It was like that before each game. When it’s over, it would be carried away in its thousands of fragments, taken home by its thousands of fans.

LIVE IN PAIN OR DIE IN PEACE

By Zhao Xiao Chen

The most salient characteristic of life is its coerciveness. We can’t predict what will happen the next minute, be it a prize or an accident; neither can we deny what life will impose on us, be it a fortune or a catastrophe. Painful as life may be, it is no excuse for exiting the stage of life. Life is a one – time shot and lost chance never returns. Everyone understands it but people turn to forego life regardless. Why do they make the choice? A diary may give us some clues.
The diary became known on the blog of a 28 – year – old Chinese girl, Li Yan. Suffering from Muscular Dystrophy Disease (DMD), an incurable disease deservedly nicknamed "super cancer", she’s been confined to wheelchair for 27 years and had to rely entirely on her parents for that span of time.
"It was raining. Mother and I were on our way home. I used to be so scared in rainy weather and pray that mom and dad would come soon and wheel me home, but now I only feel the comfort as wind drifted by and raindrops kissed my face and arm.”
We can hardly imagine that the words were from a girl who had gone through hell. She is so sensitive, tender, easily-satisfied and therefore always thankful. It may sound differently considering that she wrote down the story with a chopstick between teeth.
“I love life, but I’d rather die. I must die before my parents, or my life will be miserable. Without their catering me, I shall die smelly and ugly. I don’t want to be that way……”
Euthanasia, as Yi Yan sees, is a way out. She said so in a message she left on a popular hostess’s blog. But so far it is wish - impossible in China, as practicing euthanasia violates the state law. That’s why Yan pinned her hope on the hostess to help her by making her wish known to representatives of People’s Congress, the only people who can legalize euthanasia. She even claimed that she would starve to death should her attempt fail, as she has no strength to kill herself any other way.
Her story triggered a renewed bout of nation – wide debate on legalizing euthanasia. Recently, she was invited as a special guest to a Phoenix TV talk show. Her story is suspected by some audience, but most people believe it and show great sympathy. There are supports and opposition, as it always has.
Euthanasia could easily end the pain of patients and relieve their families, who look after them round the clock, from pressure. It also spares giddy levels of medical cost. However, opponents criticize the practice as inhumane. “Doctors are supposed to save lives, not take them.” said they. Worse still, should the lethal means fall into vicious hands, consequence could exceed the wildest guess. Admittedly, euthanasia could save medical resources for more productive use on those who can be cured, but everyone deserves a chance to cling to life; many are willing to suffer whatever it takes.
As Chinese case of the kind go, Li Yan’s is not fresh. The first occurred in 1986, when a person named Wang Mingcheng pleaded a doctor to end his mother’s pain by terminating her life. Both the doctor and Wang Mingcheng were jailed but public attention was drawn to it ever since. Yet high tech gets in the play this time. Li Yan is the first to use ‘blog’, a modern communication tool, to relate her story and call for help.
It’s still early to tell how much high tech could help. If she managed to carry off more than her predecessors, it would amount to a step forward.
As yet, the best we can do is to keep our fingers crossed for this girl.

ARTS,MUSIC:Enya: Paint the Sky with Celtic Notes

By Zhou De

Athair ar Neamh, Dia linn
Athair ar Neamh, Dia liom
m'anam, mo chroí, mo ghlóir,
moladh duit, a Dhia.
Switching on the radio, I sit still. The haunting melody floats over, and permeates the cabana as blowing up a balloon. Along with the scattered paper, dog-eared dictionary and dozing flowers, I am bathed in the sound of nature, and overwhelmed by an unutterable power.
The first time I came to hear of Enya, it was six years ago when the teacher chanted the preface to Wan Loon’s Tolerance, set by Enya’s Athair Ar Neamh. The melody gurgles out from the cassette, and exerts on me an indescribable magic. All of a sudden I found myself shed all the vexing thermodynamics formulas, principles of motions and long, headache verses with lush dictions, armed with but ignorance and a sincere severance to the nature. I closed my math book and that is one of the rare occasions where I did nothing other than pooling my attention in my Chinese class.
Fada an lá, go sámh,
Fada an oích', gan ghruaim,
aoibhneas, áthas, grá
moladh duit, a Dhia.

Móraim thú ó lá go lá.
Móraim thú ó oích' go hóich'.
Having no idea of what the lyrics tell（until last year when I came to catch the Gaelic words）, I was just sitting still as what I am, feeling the flow of Enya’s unique voice, stirred in the deepest heart.
The lapse of time does not wear away its fascination for me. When the wretchedness melts into tears, when the smiles play around the lips, the heaven-touched, choral-like melody, alongside the classical motifs would often leave me speechless. It’s really difficult to parallel the amazing and tranquilizing songs with a battery of praise adjectives. There’s no need to do so, actually.
As the rabbit leads Alice into her dreaming wonderland, it is Enya’s unique voice that guides me into the wonderland of Irish music, a miracle of the world’s music treasure trove. Secret Garden, U2, West Life, Mary Black, etc. a galaxy of transcendent singers and bands of the Irish music stride over, all carrying their own projections of life and interpretations of the unique culture in their motherland. I was then getting more and more acquainted with the looming melancholy in Secret Garden, a matrix of confusing and passion of U2, and lachrymose, high-pitched let-out from West Life.
But Enya always stays as my first choice for her delicate and penetrating voice, simple yet sincere melody, and her impressive temperament, bewitching rather than tempting, impossible to imitate.
Enya is not beautiful, in worldly sense. But she has cavernous eyes, as deep as the starry night. She has breathtaking voices, not to carry you away but to pacify and purify the mind.
She often gets sensitive, just as the songs she sings and composes.
“Music is located in relation to an imagined geography,” writes Andrew Blake, “and often expresses that geography.” Enya’s projection of the geography is her interpretation in the authentic Irishness, a continuing pastoral and simple Irish countryside identity with sacredness and misty melancholy, a slight different version from the ideological construction of Ireland by river dance.
“Behind Ireland fierce and militant, is the Ireland poetic, passionate, remembering, idyllic, fanciful, and always patriotic.” Yeats, the poet laureate of Ireland showed his confidence of Irishness in his Popular Ballard Poetry of Ireland. And Enya’s songs are also teemed with such confidence and passion. Her songs are strongly concerned with the symbiotic relationship which locks landscape and humans, and quite often God and Goddess. In her poetic songs, such scenes could be often discerned just as the description of Irish beauty by Anon——“richly covered with woods, delightfully situated houses, the oars of a majestically moving boat and the sounds of which ravish the senses.”
The traditional “bright and green” Irishness is interwoven with misty melancholy in Enya’s songs. She is not like “a sprightly lark with a song in her little mouth”, nor a beautiful thrush “stretching out in melodious song”. And in her music we can often discern the misty melancholy even from the briskness of her music. She sings as nightingales, seeing off the senile sun and embracing the dark blue sky painted with stars, awaiting the rebirth of the days and brightness. She tongues out neither sheer melancholy, nor mere delight. She always sings the blending——solemnity, joy and infinite piety to the almighty heaven, the rejoices of the people after a handsome reap and the reverence to the awesomeness of nature.
The melancholy is shared by Secret Garden and Bono, the lyricist and soul of U2, who interprets the Irish melancholy this way, “in a much more mysterious way it’s very Irish, the ache and the melancholy in it uniquely Irish.”
Enya’s humming is not likely to leave us on wires or to exult insanely, either could we weep or shed tears just as many do after viewing the sensational, tear-gas-like Korean MV Kiss. But Enya’s songs have an ineffable glamour, reflecting the search of peace and simplicity of life and free from the mobbing hubbubs and bustling worldliness.
When her debut Watermark in 1988 achieved a faraway success and established the heights for the gifted Irish vocalist and pianist, many doubted the endurance of the glamour of simple Celtic style she represents. However, her following albums followed suit and introduced her to the world’s music hall. Shepherd Moons, the Celts, the Memory of Trees, Paint the Sky with Stars and a Day without Rain each “romantic name” chalked a new sales record. While she sticks to the Celtic elements in her music despite that the international taste is much more pronounced.
Along with the hits of Enya, she became a frequenter to the Grammy ceremonies and almost each time tipped as favorites to awards. Her name soon became internationally house-hold, and Enya manias make presence and garrison one by one in a multitude of corners of the globe with a quite broad milieu of audiences, in Europe, in the US, in China, in Africa, etc. Abreast with the Enya rushes, the Celtic folkloric worldwide strikes the globe with its fresh style and heart-felt gratitude to life it presents.
Bono deemed art, especially music, as “a search for identity” in a conversation with Richard Kearney. In Irish singer tradition, local success to any degree was usually by a swift relocation to London and other metropolises on the globe. While Enya always stresses her Celtic identity despite an international fame in music, specifically in the New Age arena. She spares no efforts in the promoting of the fragrant Celtic music, the fresh notes with the fragrance of the grass and woods, and is fully in the position to be the prolocutor of it. In her albums, Enya relates the ancient Celtic myths, allegories and fairy tales in her choral style to the globe inhabitants. Her performance of How Can I Keep from Singing invigorates the traditional Irish psalm and in Aldebaran Enya traces to the migration of the ancient Celtic. The Celtic, the opening track of Enya’s debut writes her gratitude to and strong identification with the Irishness, especially the Celtic culture which nurtures her inspirations.
When English becomes the dominating “lingua franca”, Enya insisting on her passion and devotion to the local Gaelic, and many of her songs, including my favorite Athair Ar Neamh, are performed in it. The little knowledge of the language would not be an impediment, because we can feel the soul of the songs in our deep heart. 　
The songs of Enya are imprinted with the Irish, especially the Celtic elements which conceives her continuous inspirations. She never thought of denying that.
“I think my inspirations would come from people, people that have passed on, memories of them, but it can also be landscape. I came from the North West of Ireland, county Donegal and its very rural area: mountainous, beaches, rushes and it is somewhere I love to go. I feel I like I need to get back to my roots, back to who I am. There is nowhere better than to go home because I find the people there know me as “Eithne” and they don’t treat me any differently. They are proud of the success, but it’s so lovely that they talk to me as if only I just left yesterday! That keeps me very grounded and that’s very important to me.”
Enya, the New Age laureate, is more like a minstrel singer, wending the way at the dewy dawn into the valley or sitting by the typical Irish bar and witnessing the civilian’s dance in joy.
Paint the sky with stars, Enya gilds the selections of her best songs with this poetic and romantic verse. Singing sincerely for her Irishness, Enya is also painting with the Celtic notes in a sky free from hostility, hubbub and the vices of life. All the sparkling notes hanging and dangling in the sky-ceiling relates to us the peace, delight, piety and gratitude to the heaven, in a language we all understand.

CHINA, NATIONAL, MOVIE REVIEW: Chinese Cinema:Long March to Oscar

By April Zhang

It's been some time since Chinese director Zhang Yi Mou came back from 79th Oscar Academy Awards empty-handed. His latest blockbuster Curse of the Golden Flower missed all awards, including the much-aspired best foreign picture.

The film, again, told a story about treachery-crippled ancient Chinese court, full of intricate plot developments, familial obligations, martial arts action, and even more deception. Costing $45 million, starring a best-ever cast and based on a Chinese favorable drama story, Curse of the Golden Flower should have done better. Captain Zhang Yi Mou, among routine clamor from domestic media, sailed for New York Harbor the third time; his voyage was, as it always is, chanted with passionate prediction for the first Academy to befall China; His latest hit was also remarked as "empty extravaganza".

Before Zhang's chrysanthemums-loaded liner was shut outside Oscar, Chinese cinema has long entered the pursuit of Oscar. At 60th Academy Awards, The Last Emperor, a film based on Chinese emperor, Pu Yi's life story, pocketed nine awards; thirteen years later, Ang Lee amazed Oscar judges with the first Chinese martial arts picture, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and took home four awards. Besides Zhang Yi Mou, the pious pursuers also include Chen Kai Ge, director of Farewell My Concubine and Promise, Feng Xiao Gang, director of The Banquet. The three are regarded as the best triad in today's Chinese cinema, yet none of them had touched the Academy award, despite these expensive attempts and glorifying nomination.

Chinese audiences were not in much mood for complaints or reproach this time, as they know Chinese ace directors' style only too well. Piling up money, calling up stars, and cameras are rolled up; movie makers take care of film promotion, cinemas take care of projecting time, and domestic box office will be taken care of. As for Oscar, it is the icing on the cake. In China, pictures vying for the Academy Award plays no worse than the awarded in drawing audiences. Some go out of patriotism, more of curiosity, and a few to find stuff for mockery.

Film is for sale; filmmaking is no charity. To make a real fortune on films, mere domestic market is not enough. Zhang Yi Mou's first Oscar attempt, Hero, scored around 250 million yuan from domestic market, but more than 5.3 million dollars (about 400 million yuan) from U.S. cinemas. Every director understands the magnitude of overseas market--particularly the U.S. market. The question remains that how to make way to American movie screen. Despite the progress of Chinese cinema in the last half century, very few of our domestic movie stars ring a bell to overseas audiences. But Oscar is a universal passport less than crucial to Chinese directors who are eager to make a name and a lot of money. Box office is the target, and an international position for Chinese cinema is just a bonus prize.

Again, the question comes in: without Brad Pitt and Spielberg, what can convince overseas agents of the profitability of Chinese films? Wait a minute, we have 5000-year–old history which can serve as a resourceful mine of exotic stories; we have the best landscape that nature can offer for shooting backdrop. On top of all, our ancestor has left us an amazing legacy--Chinese martial art--which is rarely seen in the West. Ang Lee made the lucrative discovery and put it to good use. Since Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon introduced to western audiences the jianghu world, or "wild west" underworld inhabited by outlaw heroes and primarily governed by noble ideals and individual sense of justice, other Chinese directors jumped on the bandwagon of touting martial arts.

Certainly, they added innovation too. Interesting is that great minds think too much alike. From Zhang Yi Mou's Hero to Feng Xiao Gang's The Banquet, stories are inevitably set in the transit of dynasties, preferably Qin dynasty or late Tang dynasty; there would be a callous emperor dictating everything, a suffering empress who committed infidelity (or woman kong fu master involved in loving affairs with two men); there would be conspiracy to topple the authority, lots of deaths and double-crosses and plot twists and an epic battle; when everything is back to order, the film ends.

The films are too formulized to allow characters movement room. Zhang Man Yu, a main actress in Hero, turned out a glamour girl not because she had lost her acting proficiency overnight but was bounded by the plot.

Ang Lee called wuxia warriors who are the leading characters in martial arts genre "mythical, larger-than-life heroes in the Chinese imagination". Well, his fellow directors have made them hollower-than-life forms on screen.

Everything has a focus. Sadly, most of the blockbusters had audiences overwhelmed by things other than acting. In Hero, Zhang Yi Mou boldly employed luscious color to awe-struke American audiences. He tried to tell a suspense-packed clear story but left foreign audiences confused over the connection between calligraphy and swords; Chinese audiences have no difficulty understanding the story, though, they are also confused---why bother telling a simple story three times as if intending to play with audience? His other hit House of Flying Daggers continued the dazzling color style and confused audiences further.

To clear his name as a bad story teller, Zhang turned to an easy alternative this time. Curse of Yellow Flowers borrowed the story from Thunderstorm, a classic Chinese drama by Cao Yu. But gee, it is better he didn’t borrow. Set in 1930s, the plot of Thunderstorm revolved in a feudal wealthy family and the tragic ending was the only way that then social illness could drive things to. However, Zhang's adapted epic deprived the tragedy of its backdrop, thus it left nothing to provoke thoughts.

The same deficiency is seen in other blockbusters. Promise (directed by Chen Kai Ge) is set in a made-up land among fabricated confronting interest groups. Not inspired from any figure or occasion in reality, the movie is hardly identified by the audience.

No wonder Oscar gave them refusals repeatedly. If Chinese directors continued this way, they will have to count on the awards committee's sympathy for a minor comforting award.

News just went out that John Woo (director of Face off and Dragon Squad) has his hands on a new production, The Warlords and has decided on a cast dominated by Chinese actors and actresses. Its budget amounts to $750 million, a new high in Chinese cinema. Presumably, it will be China's next attempt for Oscar. Thank God, it's John Woo. Consider that he is a high-profile director whose work has been approved by Oscar adjudicator panel and discerning audiences, the colossal budget should be safe with him.

CHINA, NATIONAL, FEATURES: The Great Wall, William and Qi

By Lou Li

The more William Lindesay thinks about it, the more he regards his story a perfect example of destiny.

Lindesay, the first foreigner to make a traverse on foot along the whole length of Ming Dynasty Great Wall and the founder of International Friends of the Great Wall, came face to face with this destiny when he was still an 11-year-old boy in Britain, looking at the Great Wall on his school atlas map for the first time.

"My dream of the Great Wall began at that time," William said. "But most people who have dreams in childhood forget these and end up doing something else. But luckily, I've stayed with mine."

His dream came true in 1987, when he traveled 2,470 kilometers on foot along the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) Great Wall (from Jiayuguan to Shanhaiguan). Back in Britain, William recounted his 2,470 km solo adventure in Alone on the Great Wall, which was published in the UK, USA and Germany. After that, he returned to China. While working at Xi'an University of Technology and later at China Daily and Xinhua News Agency, he actually spent much of his spare time trekking and researching on the Great Wall. From the late 1990s, he began picking up garbage from the Wall by himself. In 1998, William organized the first public clean-up action on Great Wall, heading 120 participants picking up garbage at Jinshanling Great Wall and later continued to organize many activities of the same kind. In 1999, he helped place ten notice boards that bear "Taking Nothing but Photographs, Leave Nothing but Footprints" beside footpaths leading up to wilderness Wall in Huairou.

At the end of year 2000, William decided that it was time to work full-time for the Great Wall. He established in 2001 the "International Friends of the Great Wall", a non-profit NGO devoted to the conservation of the Great Wall, embarking on a larger dream – "to assist China's cultural-relics authorities in preserving the authenticity of the Great Wall of China".

Also with the Great Wall, William found another destiny of life – his wife Wu Qi. William says the Great Wall is the matchmaker of him and Qi. And previous reports often went like "William met his beautiful wife on the Great Wall." Reading that, William laughed, "So many people have visions of me walking along the Great Wall and spotting Wu Qi in a field pounding corn. And people must think I said to this farm girl something like, 'Xiaojie, ni hao!' (Hello, young lady)."

But the true story of William and Qi together on the Great Wall began on what might have been the last day of William in China. "We met each other in the lobby of our hotel one afternoon. She could speak English. And at that time those Chinese who were learning Chinese took every opportunity to flex their language skill. I remember I was in the lobby of the hotel and heard someone say 'hello, what do you do China?' and I said 'hello, my name is William'. I didn't say anything like 'I'm running along the Great Wall.' because I was en route to complying with a deportation order for trespass in closed areas, and it was my last day, perhaps forever, in China," William reminisced, still being able to tell every detail of his first meeting with Qi though it was almost twenty years ago.

"So I said 'I am writing a book'. And I remember you asked what the book was about," William said turning to Qi, "I said 'it is about the Great Wall'. And then Qi said 'what is it called?' But I didn't have a name for the book, or perhaps half a book, at that time. Anyway, off the top of my head, I said 'the book is called From the Desert to the Sea', because the Great Wall goes from the desert to the sea. And she said 'oh, very nice, bye-bye'. And that was it.'

William called it a miracle that just two weeks later he managed to return to China and restart his journey along the Great Wall. Then, destiny took a hand, one again. He met Qi in the lobby of the same hotel. "The rest is private," William said with smile. In 1988 William and Qi married and interestingly, the subtitle of William's first book "Alone on the Great Wall" is "From the Desert to the Sea".

"The Great Wall is truly our matchmaker. William came to China because of the Great Wall and then we could meet each other," said Wu Qi. "I majored in history at university. But I never thought I'd hear so much about the Great Wall of China from a foreigner. I was moved at that time that a foreigner could be so crazy about the Great Wall."

But her parents might not think the same way. "My parents couldn't figure it out why a foreigner came all the way to China," said Qi. "Because back in 1987, there were not so many foreigners in China at that time."

Even now, William said, his career might sometimes be misinterpreted by his father-in-law. "Qi's father was recently overheard answering a question 'what does your foreign son-in-law do in Beijing' with the response 'he picks–up garbage on the Great Wall'," William said jokingly.
But Qi understood fully William's long-term goal and she supported him whole-heartedly. She became William's assistant and the public relations manager of "the International Friends of the Great Wall", in charge of contacting officials and sponsors and promoting the Society's activities. "We make a good team," William said.

"Without Qi's organization, this project would just be a pile of photographs," said William, referring to his efforts to document how the Great Wall has changed over the last 150 years with the project "The Great Wall Revisited". "The Great Wall Revisited" utilizes the "re-photography" technique—repeatedly photographing the same place with a time lag in between. William has been traveling back and forth across North China with his file of vintage photos, looking for the exact spots where they were taken, to re–take them. "My aim is to link the past and present, and bring a better future for the Wall by providing this evidence to experts, officials and the general public," said William, two weeks before the photo exhibition to open at Beijing's Capital Museum on January 5, 2007.

William gave his special thanks to Qi at the end of his upcoming book, "The Great Wall Revisited": I couldn't have achieved so much without her.

Unlike other cross-cultural couples, William and Qi both agree that they have encountered no cultural shock and actually don't have any conflicts. But after a second thought, Qi said maybe she and William had some different ideas toward the education of their two sons, 12-year-old Jimmy and 6-year-old Tommy.

"We combine the Western way and the Chinese way to educate our children. When William is away from home, I would adopt the Chinese way, pushing the boys hard to finish homework," Qi said. "But William is always very lenient to the boys."

"I saw Tommy last night doing homework," William broke in. "He had a sheet full of Chinese characters. He is only six years old! I couldn't believe it. I thought, oh, poor boy as he sat there, murmuring characters like a monk," William said.

Jimmy and Tommy are "core" members of the "International Friends of the Great Wall". They've been with William and Qi to nearly every activity they have carried out on the Great Wall. Qi thought the boys would gain high awareness of the importance of history and environmental protection from joining the activities.

One time, when William was walking with Jimmy, his eldest son, they passed some wasteland close to where they were living. People were demolishing buildings there. "But there were also trees," William said, "and Jimmy was very angry to see saplings broken or covered by what looked like illegal dumping of rubble. He said to me 'when I'm older, I am going to use the money from my company to plant trees'."

The Lindesay family went to Britain in July this year. On July 12, Queen Elizabeth awarded William the rank of "Officer, Order of the British Empire" for his international contribution to protecting the Great Wall of China. "This is just like May 1st Labor Day Medal in China," William explained. In London he unfolded the national flags of Britain and China for a photo outside Buckingham Palace with Wu Qi, Jimmy, Tommy and his brothers, sister and their families.

"I promised the Queen that I would persevere in my conservation work of the Great Wall and I hope to continue for one hundred years!"

William turned 50 a few weeks ago. "It is a milestone," William said. "But for me I don't think I could ever retire, because the Great Wall is always going to be there. It's my passion. I am very lucky that I am doing something I really enjoy. It's worthwhile, interesting and fascinating.""I am also very lucky to have Qi and a happy family life as my foundation," William said.

CHINA, NATIONAL, FEATURES: Capture of a Lifetime

By Li Mu

Thirty years ago, straddling on the shoulders of his six-foot eldest brother and supported by his second brother, Wang Wenlan, then a photography enthusiast in his twenties, pressed the shutter of his Seagull 120 at a most memorable picture of his life.

What he captured was an unusual moment in China's history, as critics later remarked. None of the people – thousands of them – in the picture stares at the viewer, but they all look solemnly at the monument towering above them, with its base buried in wreaths. A cluster of balloons carry a slogan reading "Cherish the memory of the Premier."

The image of mass mourning of the late Chinese premier Zhou Enlai (1898-1976) at the Tiananmen Square in Beijing, China's capital, in April 1976, critics say, best records the Chinese people's silent rage at the radicals then in power. This rage finally led to the end of the decade long Cultural Revolution in October that year, a revolution later described as a "catastrophe" that dragged China to the verge of collapse.

The picture later went on the frontpage of China Youth Daily, one of the most influential newspapers in China, bringing fame to Wang Wenlan and his brothers.

Now an established photo journalist, Wang Wenlan has taken thousands of pictures for China Daily, a leading English language newspaper in China. Remembering the picture that has launched him on this career, Wang said he did not realize the significance of what he had taken until years later.

Yet he did defy the authorities' ban on going to the square with thousands of others to mourn Zhou, who passed away in January 1976. "People loved the Premier who always cared for the people," Wang said. "Yet the radicals in power at the time forbid people to express their sorrow and respect for Zhou openly." In anguish, citizens in Beijing spontaneously went to the Tiananmen Square around the Qingming Festival, traditional Chinese memorial day, in early April 1976, to vent their sorrow for Zhou and anguish at the radicals.

"My brothers and I were there because we thought the scene should be kept," recalled Wang. He also remembered how the people at the Tiananmen Square clashed with the police. who tried to disperse the gathering and took away all the wreaths.

The mass movement, now known as the April Fifth movement, might not have been captured in the way the Wang brothers had done by professional photojournalists, who were officially banned from covering the issue. The mass mourning, labeled as "counter-revolutionary" in mid April 1976, was suppressed down, followed by a nationwide purge on anyone who got involved in the mass mourning. Wang’s films, if uncovered by officials, could brought him into real trouble.

By the time Wang was serving as a photo reporter in a unit of the People's Liberation Army stationed near Beijing. "I had just developed my rolls in my darkroom upon my return from Beijing when I was summomend by security officers, who inquire if I had been to the square. I fooled them, saying I only passed there on board of a bus," Wang Wenlan said. Then he rushed back to his darkroom, blew-dried his films and quickly handed them to his brother Wenbo, who was serving in another regiment.

"His work had nothing do to with photography and nobody would suspect him. So my rolls were safe in his place and with both kept our mouths shut," Wang smiled. His picture came to light only when the movement was rehabilitated as a "revolutionary act" two years later in 1978.
Wang Wenlan attributed the picture to his experience in the Cultural Revolution and his hard-core photo-enthusiast brothers. Born as the third of the four boys in a family of party cadres, Wang Wenlan was intrigued by black-and-white photos taken by his uncle Han Xuezhang, a first-generation photographer of the People's Republic of China. Together with his brothers, he began photographing with a borrowed camera in their teenage.

While the Cultural Revolution deprived their father of freedom, the political turmoils gave the kids a lot of free time to indulge themselves in the hobby as the school was halted and their parents occupied with struggles. Before they were forced to leave Beijing in 1968, Wang Wenlan and his brothers spent more than a year on photography, taking hundreds of photos at Beijing's historical sites including the Great Wall and the Imperial Tombs. The Wang brothers converted the family storage into a darkroom, and spent nights developing photos, using hand-rolled films cut down from a domestic product of cinematographic films, paper of blank margins of Chairman Mao's photos, and bowled developing agents. As they each had 15 Yuan of monthly living fee—about half of an average worker's monthly income at the time—they managed to save money from their food and clothing to buy two-Yuan-per-kilo paper and rolls of films.

Wang spent some three years in a village in Shaanxi Province, "harvesting wheat, plowing rice fields, herding cows and sheep, butchering pigs and driving horse carts," before he and his brothers resumed their favorite hobby upon their return to Beijing later in 1971. Then he joined the army, serving in a unit stationed in Hebei province, and became its photographer as he had desired.

Wang's efforts were rewarded with recognition from leading photographers of the country. Gong Zhimin, a renowned photography critic in China, describes Wang as "a truly exceptional photographer with a personal style."

One of the visitors to Wang Wenlan's photo weblog admits that he was "really moved" at Wang's images of the past. "These photos remind me how ignorant my generation is to national events of the past."

Preparing to co-write a book of pictures and stories of what he and his brothers experienced in the past decades, Wang said: "My only regret is that I let too many precious moments slip away from my camera lens during the Cultural Revolution, a historical event that will never come back again."

Special thanks to Xiong Lei, a China Features editor who helped editing the story. To see Wang's photo taken in 1976, please click here.

CHINA, NATIONAL, FEATURES: Turning Full Cycle

By Song Mo and Wen Chihua(China Daily)

Standing atop a stool clamped to a bicycle rack in her long white wedding gown, the giggling bride clasped her bouquet of white roses as her new husband pedalled frantically down Huayuan Road in Haidian District to the reception restaurant. "This is the way we like it. I will never regret this," Fan Xiaoping told The Beijing News.

"It's really romantic to have our wedding ceremony this way," said bridegroom Jiang Yang, a doctoral student at Peking University.

Their story appeared to mark something more significant than a wedding announcement: the beginning of a mini-backlash against the motor vehicle in the Beijing print and online media along with events, such as the "Driving One Less Day a Month for a Blue Sky in Beijing" activity held on World Environment Day on June 5.

Recognizing that alongside Mexico City, Beijing shares the distinction of being the world's most polluted capital, more than 200,000 Beijing drivers pledged to use public transport, ride a bike or walk to work on that day. "It tells us that many people still reserve a special place for the bicycle in their heart, regardless of there being so many cars on the road," said a civil servant from the Shenzhen Intellectual Property Bureau.

"I ride a bike to work almost every day, and only drive to the suburbs for the weekend," said Wang Yan.

There are about 500 million bicycles on the Chinese mainland, according to the Beijing-based China Bicycle Association.

"It's time for us to rethink or rediscover what the bicycle can bring us," said association president Wang Fenghe.

Sooner rather than later, "government and people alike, including those car owners, will realize how convenient, healthy and environmentally-friendly riding a bicycle is," said Wang Yan.

Memory lane

"It's often said that Americans were brought up on the rear seats of cars. It's no exaggeration to say we Chinese were brought up on the rear seats of bicycles," said Shen Zhong, an accountant with a TV company in Beijing.

"You used to have to obtain a coupon to buy a bike, regardless of whether or not you had the money," said the 52-year-old.

Every year, each work unit was provided with a few coupons. Normally, Shen says, "one out of 100 employees had a chance to get one coupon."

In the 1970s, a worker's monthly salary could be about 30 yuan (US$3.70). Not until 1973 did Shen get her first bike.

"It was second hand, but it still cost me 100 yuan (US$12). My father asked his friend to fix the rattling for me. For that, my mother even cooked meat for him, which we could only eat during Spring Festival," said Shen, with a big smile. "My bicycle was like a family member. Life was difficult back then, so that happiness seemed much more precious than that of today."

Thus the bicycle was once an important status symbol. Shen remembers that when couples planned to marry, one of the prerequisites was the "san zhuan yi xiang" three rounds and one sound a bicycle, a sewing machine, a wrist watch and a radio.

It was a bicycle that brought Lu Yuling and her husband together.

"We lived far apart," said the retired high school teacher from Chengdu in Southwest China. "It wasn't so easy to get together. He had a bike. Therefore, almost every evening, he rode all the way across the city to see me.

"Instead of coming into my house, he used to sit on his bike and play a Russian love song on his harmonica. That was our secret signal. On hearing his harmonica, I'd dash out and then we'd ride out to the city park."

Her engagement gift? "Striking, and sexy. All my girl friends were so envious of me. "

A fire-engine red bicycle of course. "The bicycle was a key part of my romance and my life," said 55-year-old Lu. "I really miss the days when the city was like a huge neighbourhood, where car drivers respected cyclists and cyclists respected pedestrians."

Return of the king

Every 100 Chinese urban families had 162.7 bicycles in 2000, according to the National Bureau of Statistics. That figure dropped to 120 in 2005. Urban sprawl appears to be one reason.

"People's freedom of movement expands after relocation," said Peking University student Cai Zixuan, 21, whose family bought a car three years ago after moving to the West Fifth Ring Road from downtown Beijing.

"It's so inconvenient to go downtown without a car. Both my parents and I have driving licences so we can make full use of the car. None of us ever rides a bike anymore."

It seems that for a certain kind of affluent urban elite, the car has replaced the bicycle as the key status symbol, while the bicycle has now become its poor cousin, even a symbol of poverty.

"This way of thinking hinders the development of the bicycle. One's use of a bicycle shouldn't be taken as an indicator of one's financial status," said Wang Fenghe.

Wang feels the media overemphasize the glamour of the automobile at the expense of the bicycle's obvious advantages: Keeping fit, safety, easy to use, zero pollution, energy-saving, cost-effectiveness and size.

"These are the secrets of why the bicycle has lasted ever since its invention," said Wang.

Yang Shan, 36, sells 10 bikes a day at Beijing Cuiwei Shopping Mall. The price varies from 200 to 3,000 yuan (US$25-375).

"Most people buy the cheapest ones, because bicycles are stolen very often," said Yang as he assembles the new arrivals.

Apart from the classic Chinese brands like Forever and Phoenix, electric bicycles and portable folding bicycles are becoming increasingly popular.

Although the bulk of his customers are high-school students, Yang noticed more drivers are now buying bicycles.

Wang Xiaohui came to try out an electric bicycle. "I want to buy an electric bicycle to deliver and pick up my son from school. It's less of a headache and quicker," said the 34-year-old. "It takes only 10 minutes by electric bicycle."

It's a half-hour drive in the Beijing traffic, she says.

Other drivers are sticking folding bicycles alongside the spare tire in their car trunk, Wang said.

"They say when there's a traffic jam, they just park the car and get on their bikes."

The article has been published in China Daily on September 28th

CHINA, NATIONAL, FEATURES: Driving Ambition

By Song Mo and Wen Chihua

The automobile is fast becoming much more than just a mode of transport for modern Chinese youth and the numbers are staggering.

There was a 15-per cent sales surge last year in the world's second-largest motor-vehicle market, with 5.9 million new cars sold to happy new drivers.

The reasons for buying a car are personal rather than practical. "Getting a driving license is a must for my generation, just like getting a computer," says Shen Xi, a student at the Communication University of China in Beijing. "It's a part of you, suggesting who you are and how you're doing in this ruthless modern society."

The 19-year-old obtained his driving license at 18, the legal driving age in China.

"Nowadays, to a young urbanite, not knowing how to drive is like saying you don't know how to ride a bike. Most of my classmates have driving licences ready for a car soon after we graduate and land a job."

The cost of a driving licence ranges from 3,000 to 5,000 yuan (US$375-625) and includes compulsory lessons at a certified driving school. There are 102 driving schools in Beijing.

Laoshan Driving School issued licenses to 2,780 young people in the capital in the first half of this year, according to the school's director Qin Junan. Back in 1992, 300 students received their licences, he said. In 2004, it was 6,000 students and by 2005, 7,000.

Things have changed since the 1980s, when only professional drivers were entitled to cars.

Hou Jiayi, a chauffeur for a government agency, recalled: "Back then, I worked in a motor plant. As drivers were badly needed, 10 workers, including me, were chosen to learn to drive from experienced drivers."

Before being allowed to drive by himself, Hou followed his teacher driving around the city for a whole year. "One experienced driver instructed one apprentice," Hou said. "We called them 'master' instead of 'teacher' because they taught us not only how to be a driver, but also how to be a sensible and responsible driver."

New lifestyle

For Hou and his contemporaries, driving was a prestigious profession. For 20-somethings, driving is an expression of status and individual freedom.

"My quality of life has improved since I got a Honda Accord two years ago," says a 28-year-old man, who asked not to be named for this article. "My fiance and I often go to the Maple Park Drive-in-Cinema, where you can enjoy movies in your car, like a box at a conventional theatre comfy and prestigious."

With four large screens, the drive-in theatre accommodates more than 500 vehicles. Each day, there are about 100 cars. "Most of them are young lovers," says cinema manager Gu Haiqiong. "Our drive-in really caters to their need for a cozy and private environment."

Others like to travel by car during their holidays. Wang Min, a businessman in his 40s, once drove 3,436 kilometres from Chengdu of Southwest China's Sichuan Province to Harbin of Heilongjiang in the Northeast.

"Sitting behind the wheel, your body, your spirit feels like they're flying, and you have control of everything except the toll fee. That's a little steep."

Wang said it cost him about 600 yuan (US$75) to travel from Beijing to Weihai, a tourist resort 967 kilometres southeast of the capital.

A must for marriage?

While cars began to become a part of life for many common Chinese into 1990s, a ride inside a luxury car at his or her wedding ceremony when the Chinese bridgegroom traditionally collected the bride from her family home for the ceremony has become a trend and been getting more popular, according to wedding planners.

"People believe that it is the most important day in one's life, so they want to make it as luxurious as they can," says Qi Xin, 33, manager of Xi Jiaojiao wedding company in Beijing.

Lincoln, Mercedes-Benz and Audi A6 are the top flavours for the day. A Lincoln costs about 5,000-8,000 yuan (US$625-1,000) a day, and a motorcade with 10 cars costs at least 10,000 yuan (US$1,250).

For some women, their husband-to-be must have a car. "A car proves a man's success in his career, suggesting he has gained some economic power. I don't want to have a fight with my husband over money, " says Wang Sichen, a 24-year-old Beijing white-collar worker.

During the 1970s and 1980s, the watch symbolized the height of luxury to many urban Chinese, sometimes costing a whole year's salary. Those who finally bought one would often push up their sleeves from time to time, hoping others would take notice.

Watches these days are no longer flaunted, and now it seems everybody is reaching for the steering wheel.

"The car is like yesterday's watch. More and more people buy cars not to simply show off, but to improve their quality of life," says Shen Zhong, a 52-year-old Beijing accountant.

Children of the next generation are already becoming indoctrinated into the new China car culture.

Li Yiding, 6, has pretty much grown up with a car. "I tell Mom to fasten seatbelt when she drives. I can help her watch the road conditions. I can identify many cars BMW, Benz, QQ and Renault, " says the boy.

The article has been published in China Daily on September 2nd.

CHINA, NATIONAL,NEWS: New York Times coverage of Shanghai History Textbook Revision Retorted

by Li Mu

Su Zhiliang, chief editor of the new standard history textbook in Shanghai, told the press last Thursday that New York Times has failed to cover changes of made in the new history book without biased distortion, and the public censure following the translation of the report in state media is unfounded.

He said to Southern Weekly, a major newspaper, that the September 1 cover story of New York Times, Where's Mao? Chinese Revise History Books, was irresponsible in reporting that important parts of Chinese history concerning Marxism and Socialism as well as massive struggles are reduced in the new textbooks at the approval of authorities. He also denied the assertion that the new history books will be used in nationwide history courses.

The general history of china and world including foreign invasions and revolutions in China has been covered in history book of junior high, he explained. The changes in Shanghai's high school history book was made to meet the requirement for eliminating repetition in the new national standard for history education.

"Conventional high school history education is like combining the study of "1+2=?" and "1+1=?", after learning them separately in previous lessons." Su said. In nationwide high schools, conventional history education reviews the same set global and domestic events covered in junior high schools, likely to result in a lack of student interest in learning what have been learned.

Student in Shanghai now learns about Mao Zedong in their first year in junior high and revision for college entrance examination at the senior year in high school. The junior high history book still acknowledges Mao's chief achievements and contributions to Chinese revolution, without leaving out Mao's "erroneous decisions" as the causes of the great leap forward campaign and culture revolution, which have brought social and economic havoc to China during 50s and 60s.

"Mao Zedong is a must-learn historic figure, but there is no necessity for every text book used in every level to cover the same thing. Even in the recent history books used nationwide, Mao Zedong does not appear in every volume." Su noted. He claimed that teachers have counted at least a hundred and twenty references to Mao Zedong in the new history textbooks.

Other important parts of Chinese history, such as the first emperor unifying China, Qing Shihuang, who ordered a campaign to burn books and kill scholars and large-scale peasant insurgences, have also remained in history books.

"These facts disappear from high school text because they are taught in the junior high." Su said, in response to the reported elimination of struggles in the history books, "There is no necessity to cover all of the peasant insurgences that streamed through the Chinese history. Some notable ones, such as the uprising against Qin dynasty and Qing dynasty, as well as the boxer rebellion have been detailed."

Following the translation of the New York Times report, criticisms of the textbook spread over newspapers and websites, albeit a few supportive voices. Spice-adding headlines such as "Bill Gates has replaced Mao in new Shanghai history text", "Shanghai textbook change: reflection of political overhaul" filled reports and posts carried on internet, which, according to su, "did little justice to the textbooks." He called on the public to review the textbooks before judging the changes made in the textbooks.

The new history books focus on evolutions of human civilization as well as development of social and culture institutions, featuring updated information including globalization and international trade, which is believed to be helpful in the real world. “Our new focus on history of civilization is founded on Marxist view of history, covering materialistic, social, political and spiritual aspects of civilizations.” He explained.

Ding, a Shanghai student who has been taught in conventional history textbook, says the new books add, instead of delete, materials for history lessons. "There are no fundamental changes in terms of the layout of historical facts. These books are more informative and lay less emphasis on student's memorization of facts."

"The most important question now is: have all the criticisms come from those who have read our text books? The distortions of fact in irresponsible reports and translations can render a biased view of what we have changed here." Su said.

CHINA, NATIONAL,NEWS: China Likely to Prevent Foreign Control Over Key Auto-components Manufacture

by Li Mu and Wayne Xing

Approval of several auto parts joint ventures that have majority control by foreign partners has been delayed, according to a recent report in zhongguo qiche bao (China Automotive News).

While China is opening up its domestic auto parts sector to foreign investment as part of its WTO commitments, decision makers are becoming aware that multinational suppliers are expanding their control in their China operations by either taking up controlling shares of their joint ventures or shifting to setting up wholly owned foreign enterprises (WOFE). Ministries that supervise the country's automotive sector are now more cautious in the approval of joint-venture projects that may result in foreign control or monopoly.

When joint-venture projects are usually approved within 30 days, ThyssenKrupp's $39.19 million acquisition of 51 percent shares of the Tianrun Crankshaft Co., Ltd. has been sitting on the desk of the Ministry of Commerce since January, according to a company spokesperson in a telephone interview. The acquisition, if approved, will put the German company in control of 60 percent of China's crankshaft market share currently enjoyed by Tianrun, China's biggest State-owned and independent crankshaft manufacturer located in Wendeng, Shandong Province.

Another proposed joint-venture project waiting for approval from the Ministry of Commerce is a transmission joint venture between Gertrag of Germany and Jiangling Motors Transmission Co., Ltd. Gertrag plans to take up 66.7 percent of equity shares of the new venture. A Chinese executive working at Gertrag Beijing Office confirmed the situation in a telephone interview.

Foreign investors are snatching more control of domestic supplier businesses and moving towards larger market share and even monopoly, analysts say. This has been the case especially since the State Development and Reform Commission released the new Automotive Industry Development Policy in 2004. According to the new policy, foreign investors are allowed to have majority shares in auto parts joint ventures, including engine joint ventures.

Industry analysts indicate that the growing foreign control in China's equipment manufacturing industry as a result of local government approval has alarmed the central government. Decision makers are therefore contemplating on setting up guidelines as to how to prevent foreign equipment manufacturers, including key parts and components manufacturers, from controlling the domestic industries.

"The swarming in of foreign investment has created adverse environment for domestic innovation," said Sui Yongbin, vice secretary general of China Machinery Industry Federation, in an interview with jingji guancha bao (Economic Observer), "Further regulations on foreign acquisition is a must, and such regulations are in compliance with acceptable international practice," he said.

Sui is involved in the drafting of a regulation on foreign investment in the equipment manufacturing industry, which is expected to be released by the State Council. He said the new policy would protect major domestic companies from foreign control and prevent local governments from giving indiscriminative approvals to projects that are detrimental to the strategic development of the national economy.

The State Council is also considering setting up inter-ministerial conferences headed by SDRC to inspect major foreign acquisitions, according to a Hong Kong newspaper. Insiders say that these joint-venture auto parts projects are not likely to be approved until the new regulation on foreign acquisition come out.

According to some analysts, the tightening up of government control on multinational acquisitions of key automotive parts and components manufacturers has been prompted by the aborted joint venture deal between Hangzhou Advance Gearbox Group and ZF of Germany last year.

ZF's intention of controlling 70 percent shares of a partnership with the Hangzhou Advance Gearbox Group has been curbed by decision-making government departments, according to a Xinghua News report. The joint venture is "cancelled at the behest of some senior officials and professors," according to the person in charge of HAGG's public relations. He denies that there has been government intervention, however, saying instead that it is because the management of the corporation could not accept the unfavorable conditions set by ZF.

As the largest gearbox producer dominating over 80 percent of domestic market share, Hangzhou Advance Gearbox Group has doubled its annual revenue over the past five years, but its deal with ZF would prevent it from developing and manufacturing products such as marine and transmission gearboxes under its own brand, and the contract would also cost it more than ¥39 billion worth of royalties for technology over the next seven years.

Executives of the company said in an interview with Xinghua News that if the deal is made, the Chinese partner will have little say in the management of the joint venture, and may, following several precedents of foreign acquisition, eventually give up the equity interests.

The article has been published in an August newsletter of China Business Update, a company owned by Gnix Transpacific Co., Ltd in United states, which specializes in automotive industry publication. Wayne Xing, co-writer and the CEO of China Business Update, has authorized the publication of this article in WOW.