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    July 09

    For Fish, A Blazing Frontier: The Chinese Desert

    By Will James and Michelle Trauring

    He Yan Zhong found a better way to raise trout – on the outskirts of the Gobi Desert in China’s arid Midwest.

    A Shanghai-based entrepreneur and owner of Faitian Green Farm, he’s part of a Chinese solution to a global problem – a fish industry plagued by contamination.

    The water is the key to He’s prototype trout farm outside Dunhuang. It’s routed from the looming Qilian Mountains – pure glacial water, free of the pollutants found in fish farms across the world. Because of the site’s remote desert location, there’s no risk of the contamination that goes hand-in-hand with industry.

    The average modern fish farm is a biohazard. The creatures stew in their own waste, vulnerable to deadly fungus and injury due to crowding, requiring heaps of antibiotics pumped into the standing water.

    The desert site is an experimental shot at a greener alternative. The fish live in lanes of rushing water, filtered by pools of reeds and algae, said Wang Yong Bing, the deputy director. The trout – rainbow and even golden – have room to swim and jump. The mountain water stays below 22 degrees Celsius, the trout’s natural environment. It keeps them lively and lean, whereas other farm fish might just mill and soak.

    The founding of the site, one of hundreds owned by He, was fueled by demand for greener farms during a recent Chinese food safety crisis. But the idea to route water from the Qilian Mountains in the first place is nothing new. It came from founding revolutionary Zhou Enlai in the 1960s.

    Before the site was developed, it was just part of the gravelly dunes, according to Yoichi Shimatsu, the project’s development consultant. Now, due to massive irrigation, it’s an oasis, complete with a lush grape farm.

    The grape farm itself is part of a symbiotic cycle with the fish, Shimatsu said. The filtered waste water from the trout is used to moisten and fertilize the grapes’ soil. Eventually, the dead grape vines will be turned into charcoal, which will be used to filter out salt from the fishes’ habitat.

    He’s green fish farm has been three years in the making and will be complete in another three, according to Wang. The vision is to someday draw in revenue with ecotourism – vineyard tours and fresh water fishing in the mountains. Wang said the farm will top off production at 70 tons of fish a year.

    The goal is to spread this revolution to, first, He’s other farms along the Qilian Mountains, and then potentially to the world at large. According to Shimatsu, it could be applied in the Rocky Mountains and Sierra Nevada Range.

    Shimatsu plans to sell the fish to markets in Europe and along China’s eastern coast. The fish farm sits at the junction of three deserts along the ancient Silk Road, a robust trading route connecting East and West in centuries past.

    “We’re re-opening the Silk Road to a new global commerce,” Shimatsu said. “And that’s exactly what works.”

    A Mystery Unearthed, As Tourists Look On

    By Brittany Wait and Jason Van Hoven
     
    People from all over the world visit Xi’an in China's Shaanxi province to witness life-sized, ancient soldiers at the Museum of Qin Terra Cotta Warriors and Horses. Each beige-colored, armor-clad warrior flaunts various intricate facial expressions and features. They range in height from six feet to six-foot five-inches.   
     
    "China is amazed at how smart they were and this is a symbol of national pride," says Li Xue, 23, a student at Tsinghua University in Beijing.
     
    Courtney Barnett, 34, of Louisiana was on a trip to the museum with her family during a two-week visit to the province. Barnett adopted a two-year-old girl with her husband and says she wanted to take her to see this part of China’s history.
     
    "We were in awe as soon as we saw the statues," she says, looking into pit one in the first room that she visited. This pit, the largest of four, is believed to contain 6,000 warriors and horses, some unearthed while others are still buried. 
     
    Around each pit, tourists crowd to snap photos. Archaeologists, scattered throughout the museum's pits, can be found working meticulously to preserve their findings.
     
    The scientists cover their faces with masks and wear white gloves to protect their hands and the artifacts. They use tiny paintbrushes to carefully wipe the surfaces of the soldiers, horses and buildings discovered 35 years ago.
     
    On July 1, they were hard at work continuing the excavation of more of the 1,000 plus warriors already discovered. At the same time, however, their mission is to figure out why Emperor Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of the Qing dynasty, built the Terra Cotta Warriors in the first place.
     
    Worldwide archaeologists and historians surmise one theory of spirituality and another of loyalty to the emperor. Neither has yet been set in stone.   
     
    "Conventional theory is that they are spiritual guardians to protect his tomb," said Professor Charles Haddad of Stony Brook University, regarding the Terra Cotta Warriors. "Archaeologists are digging for proof of this theory."
     
    According to this theory, Qin feared death. Once he died, he wanted his warriors to protect him from the dangers of the afterlife. 
      
    Haddad and Professor Yoichi Shimatsu, a former investigative journalist and current environmental consultant, believe the loyalty theory clashes with the conventional version. "If he was a dictator that wanted immortality, how come there weren’t more important people?" Shimatsu asked rhetorically. "If you wanted to preserve the kingdom, why weren’t there more people?"
     
    Shimatsu pointed out that despite such a massive amount of warriors protecting Qin, other vital members of the emperor’s society, such as bureaucrats and scholars, should have been replicated as well.
     
    He added that Qin may not have built warriors for protection, but rather as a means to fundraise the building of his own tomb. Qin could have collected the money from military officers who paid to have a statue made in their likeness.
     
    "Qin had no real way to finance projects, so he looked to his officers who were wealthy with estates," Shimatsu said. "The officers may have paid the government to get it built." He said the fundraiser may be the reason each warrior has its own distinct representation. 
     
    Even though the excavation may symbolize national pride for many Chinese, archaeologists and historians struggle to find the ultimate reason for the creation of the ancient statues. They hope to learn more by continuing the excavation. 
     
    "It is painstaking work to preserve statues," Haddad said. "Archaeologists are just finding soldiers instead of the full representation of the emperor’s society."

    Twenty-one, With Calloused Hands

    Yan Na, a worker at a silk carpet factory in Tianshui, China. Photo by Christine Vargas.

     

    By Christine Vargas

     

    Yan Na looked a lot younger than her co-workers at the Tianshui Xintian Silk Carpet Company. The ruggedness of her hands and face made her look older than her 21 years. Her fingers were spotted with blisters and sores.

     

    She picked up the shuttle tool with her small right hand, her face concentrating on the blueprint of the carpet she was weaving. Her hands jabbed into the loom. The noise of the factory drowned out the sound of Yan Na’s batten procedure.

     

    "When I started working here my hands used to hurt and my nails used to break constantly," she said. "But now I am used to it."

     

    Her hands kept moving.

     

    Her outfit was pieced together: a cerulean shirt and khaki Bermuda shorts, with white and black stripes by the knee. Her long black hair was up.

     

    Yan Na, a native of Tianshui in China’s Gansu province, never had the opportunity to attend college or high school. She began working shortly after she finished junior high.

     

    It’s been a year since she started working at the silk carpet factory. Depending on how many carpets she finishes, she said she can earn from 200 to 400 RMB a month (between 30 to 60 U.S. dollars). These days, Yan Na said she makes 100 RMB (about 15 U.S. dollars) in an average month, due to a lack of demand.

     

    "Workers work hard," said Wang Xiau Chun, who is in charge of the factory’s finances and is one of its five shareholders. She has been in the weaving business since 1980 and has worked for the company for 10 years.

     

    Most of the carpets made in the factory are kneeling carpets, for Muslim prayer. There is not an obvious type of buyer for these carpets in the community. Gansu’s population does not consist of many Muslims. Chinese government officials buy rugs and give them to their overseas Muslim business partners.

     

    Yan Na said she works from 8:00 a.m. to noon. before she gets a chance to take a lunch break until 2:00 p.m. Many of the workers prefer not to go home for their break. Instead, they take a quick lunch and continue working.

     

    "The ladies just earn a little wage for the labor, but the corporation earns a lot of money," Wang said. "The more you work the more you earn." 

     

    After the lunch break, the workers return to their work-station and often work until midnight.

     

    "I wouldn’t be able to do this kind of job," Wang said.

     

    At the age of 21, Yan Na spends most of her days in the factory sitting by her station, second to last by the wall.

     

    When asked if she could do anything in the world she replied, "Working in the field of service for restaurants," her previous job.

     

    "I liked doing it more then this because I got to talk to more people," Yan Na said. "I was happier."

    June 30

    Young Minds Meet in Beijing

    By Fendy Lamy

    BEIJING, June 27

    Ancient Chinese culture embraced a flock of American students entering a small banquet room located on the campus of Tsinghua University, from the array of urns that adorned the high shelves of the walls to the renowned painting of the Festival of China painted by the famous Chinese artist Chien Lo in honor of the Qing Dynasty.

    At one table sits 19-year-old Yoyi Wang, who translates a Chinese adage written on a wall that reads, "If you don’t study hard when you are young, you’ll find it’s too late to read books when you get old." On June 27, Wang, along with a handful of other Tsinghua students, welcomed a class of journalism students from the School of Stony Brook University on Long Island, New York. The one-year planned event, originally created to welcome the foreigners, became more of a cultural learning experience for Stony Brook students.

    The hosting professor, Li Xiguang, a long-time journalist and executive dean of the School of Journalism and Communication at Tsinghua University, said he expected the students to bond over lunch. "Food is important in our culture when welcoming someone because you can make business and friendship at the dinner table," he said.

    Surely enough, groups of students naturally and gradually made friendships. There was laughter across Wang’s table as the Tsinghua students watched the efforts of one Stony Brook student trying to pick up a piece of meat with a pair of chop sticks.

    Gao Song, a 22-year-old student at Tsinghua, smiled and insisted on helping the struggling student. Meanwhile, the foreign students began to squint more and more and looked overwhelmed by the amount of food and piping hot tea placed upon the revolving tabletop server. As Tsinghua students from Wang’s table effortlessly picked up their chopsticks to try out the new dishes, 20-year-old Stony Brook student Jason Van Hoven had to think twice before indulging in some of the dishes.

    "I was not used to it," Van Hoven said. "I tried to overcome it by drinking water. I tried to eat as much as I can in order to not offend them."

    Some of the dishes included eel, baby bamboo, whole shrimp, mushrooms, fungus, duck, vegetable greens, cashews, and to most of the foreign students surprise, rice was the last dish to be served.

    As dining progressed, conversation at Wang’s table shifted to sports and education in the U.S. The male students from both groups talked about basketball.

    "I like Kobe," said Gao Song, who plays basketball. "I am not that good."

    At the same time, Wang expressed her passion for U.S. education with few of the foreign students. "They treat you like individuals," she said. "You are able to develop a personality."

    Wang, an industrial engineering major, has never been abroad and hopes to study at Cornell or Columbia one day.

    "I would like to learn about the U.S culture and the way you accept people," she said. "The education there is not like China."

    Gao Song has also never traveled abroad and expressed interest in learning about the visiting foreign students.

    "I am very happy for you guys to come," he said. "We can have a cultural exchange through our minds. We can come together and learn from each other."

    As for visiting the U.S., Gao Song stated with a smile on his face, "I would like to visit your campus, and taste what you eat, and use what you use – fork."