Packages of Hope - China 2005

(continuing on with the Lanzhou story, picking up from when I arrived at the airport in Lanzhou, Gansu province)


Mr. Huo led me outside to his car. It was very dry outside. I had to blink a few times to rewet my eyes. Even though we were in darkness, I could sense fine particulates in the air. Whether it was dust or pollution, I could not tell, but it would prove to wreak havoc on my sinuses and my upper respiratory system for the remainder of my time in China.

As in many of the airports I have visited in China, there is a long drive between the airport and the city’s edge, marked by a long highway. During this dark drive, Mr. Huo and I exchanged introductions. It was a hungry exchange of information, since we both really had scant information on each other. We had been connected via the foreign liaison office between Lanzhou and Albequerque, which are designated as sister cities. Other than the fact that we were both doing our job, we were understandably curious about each other as teammates.
I learned that Mr. Huo was a communist party official. My eyes went a bit wide as I held his card in my hand, with the red and gold seal of the PRC embossed in the upper left hand corner. I never really met a party official before, much less been asked to team up with one. For a moment, I allowed my self a bit of reflection, one of those moments when you find yourself facing a new experience, and realizing that never in a million years would you have expected something like THIS to happen.

I could see the headline in my hometown newspaper:

“Jeff teams up with communist party member”.

I remember reading the history books, and listening to my mother talk about the McCarthy days of the cold war.

But after only a few short minutes, I realized that the only thing that was putting me on edge was the title on the business card. Other than that, Joe Huo was just a regular guy, albeit very helpful and kind (far above and beyond just a "regular" guy).

We quickly discovered our similarities. He and I were the same age within 4 months, and we both had very similar outlooks on life. He told me he was from a family of 6 children, and was very poor when he was growing up. This is why he had a very special place in heart for Mr. Chen, and for disadvantaged children. He was on a government salary, which in new China is about the same as America, which means his middle class income gave him a comfortable life for him and his family. He, like me, felt very blessed by this, and wanted to give back to those less fortunate. He was a very high energy type of person, and was deservedly proud of his excellent English skills. He spent a number of years in Albequerque, where he intently studied all things American.

After checking into the hotel, Mr. Huo invited me out to dinner. Kindly, he invited me to a western style restaurant, where I ate with a fork for the first time in nearly a week. While the steak was excellent, I was really developing a palate for Chinese food, and I secretly longed for my favorite dishes, such as mapadofu (bean curd in a spicy oil sauce with bits of pork), lotus root, and fresh cooked fish.

We discussed our plan for the next few days, and I was excited to see Mr. Chen. Mr. Huo filled me in on a few gaps in the story as I had understood it. As he told me the story, I began to understand, and even moreso because I was in China. That is, had I read his explanation in an email, sitting comfortably in my home in Orlando, I would have had a completely different take on it versus sitting in a cold and dusty Lanzhou. There’s an element that is often missing which needs to be taken into consideration. Call it “the Chinese Way” or “cultural translation”, there’s perspective that is difficult to fully appreciate unless one is actually IN China.

Mr. Huo explained to me that Mr. Chen is well known throughout Gansu province. He is a bit of a local hero, as he has taken on the local government in resisting the effort of the local Social Welfare system to take his kids away from him. The local SW office in his small town of DingXi maintains that Mr. Chen is too old, and his home is too primitive to house the 8 children currently living there. However Mr. Chen, who has reared the children from infancy (the oldest is now 12), refuses to allow the government to take “his children”. So far there has been mixed feelings from both sides of the argument. Some people believe that Mr. Chen is indeed too old to care for the children. Others question the motives of the government SW office and the quality of life the children would receive in an orphanage, and are conflicted as what to think the best solution is for the children.

The next morning Mr. Huo met me promptly at 9am in the lobby. We took our donations with us, but Mr. Huo made the suggestion that we get coats for the children for the long and bitter winter, already on the way. He knew of a good place for great prices, and we found ourselves zipping along down department store alleyways, looking for the right type of coat, at the right price. We eventually found just what we wanted, and Mr. Huo started to haggle. After a price was fixed, we told the owner about why we were there, and who we were buying the coats for. The store owners of course knew about Mr. Chen, and that got us an even further discount. In all, 8 heavy-insulation jackets cost us 720 RMB, which works out to be about $10/per jacket.
Big bags of jackets in tow, we headed to our car, in the crisp, cold, dry Lanzhou morning.

Our car headed south out of town, and I was finally able to see the countryside in daylight. The landscape looked as though the weather should have been very hot, instead of the chilly temperature it actually was. Lanzhou is surrounded by low, rounded mountains of dull yellow. They were dotted with low foliage that resembled tumbleweeds, and there were very few trees to be seen. It looked as though the earth was made up of fine clay. I made this assumption because of the sculpted cliffs that the roadway occasionally cut through. The steeply angled slopes were perfectly smooth, with no foliage on them. I know that this would not have been a possible sight in Florida. One, the Florida sand would not have sit still with out some restraining ground net. Second, the frequent Florida rains would have easily reduced these hills to flowing rivers of mud. So this told me that the ground must have been made of highly compacted clay, and that it must not rain here very much at all.

Many of the unpopulated mountains, with their low soft crinkles looking much like a wadded up tablecloth, had horizontal etched steppes in them. At first I thought this might have been man-made, but after seeing these stepped mountains go on for endless miles, I figured that surely this must have been a phenomenon of nature. “No,” said Mr. Huo, “those have been made by people as part of a reforestation project. Before, there was a lot of deforestation due to lumber needs. Now we’re trying to replant the trees. In fact, every party member must plant 5 trees every year!”

I also noticed a lot of caves dug into the hillside. The caves all looked the same, for the most part. The openings were about 10 feet across with an arched ceiling. The sun was either too bright, or the cave was dug too far such that they all looked like black holes. Mr. Huo told me that these were often used for workers to escape the summer heat. He told me that they didn’t go back very far. In some cases, long ago, they were used as homes.

DingXi is a small town right off of the main highway. We looped around the exit ramp, and found ourselves working our way around small streets lined with farmers selling their crops, which were nearly all potatoes. Mr. Huo said that this area was nationally famous for their potato farming.

From the article I had read, I had envisioned Mr. Chen living on a dusty road on the outskirts of town, in very primitive surroundings.

However, when Mr. Huo announced, “we’re here. That’s him there, sitting on the steps,” I was aghast. The door to Mr. Chen’s home was almost camouflaged by the storefronts along this 4 lane avenue. Both sides of the avenue had a smaller lane just for bicycles, and as I said, were lined with shops of all kinds, mostly utilitarian in nature (selling manufacturing products and small tools). The only way to distinguish Mr. Chen’s home was the traditional Chinese rooftop poking out above the façade of the avenue-long storefront.

For those of you who want to know, Mr. Chen’s home is at N35’ 35.496” E104’ 37.212”

Mr. Chen jumped up and with a spry step, a big smile, and arms raised high, he made his way to the car. Whether it was because of his boisterous greeting, or my western face, we immediately started to draw a crowd of onlookers. Mr. Chen, although his face perhaps showed advanced age, was bright eyed and vibrant. He spoke in a full bodied and strong voice, slightly tenor, but free from any gravel. Usually the elderly, especially those who have known a lifetime of cigarette smoking, speak in gruff and hoarse voices, with lots of coughing and wheezing. Mr. Chen showed no such signs, speaking clearly and cleanly. He greeted me with a bright smile with perfect teeth. His children rallied around him, all full of smiles and curiosity. Upon initial examination, I was left to wonder what I was doing here. Clearly this was a family that was happy and full of life. We should all be so lucky!


With a lot of giggling, the children tugged me inside. As I later thoroughly examined the home, I found that the Chen property is approximately 45 feet in width and 90 feet deep. The front of Mr. Chen’s property is actually two small shops with his front door in the middle, with a hallway leading into the main living area. He rents out the front two shops (although they mention that this income is very little). In true Chinese style, there is an open air alleyway down the middle of the home, with buildings on either side each with a traditional Chinese roof. At the back of the property is where the Chens sleep, along with a separate room for the 8 children. The reason for this is that the back two rooms are the only rooms that have a radiator for heating.
After we entered the complex, the ancient wooden door was closed and locked. The lock consisted of an even older pole, which looked to be fashioned from a thick tree branch, which was wedged behind the door into the floor at an angle.

The right side building was used as a storage facility, and had some visible signs of wall cracking and ceiling water damage.

The left side of the building had a few small rooms. One held a makeshift bathroom, although there was no drainage system. Another was the cooking room, where two 18-year-old helpers were doing some cooking. Perpendicular to the alley was the two rooms where the Chens slept. In front of this building there were tiny desks all lined up with books and papers on them, obviously used for doing homework. I was ushered into the bedroom, which was indeed a place of cozy intimacy. Lining the walls were photos of children, memories of 40 children cherished by this loving couple. It was there that I met Mrs. Chen, a diminutive woman that looked to be suffering from osteoperosis (once again, only my opinion, I am not a doctor). She smiled widely and shook my hand and thanked me for helping their family.

The family of 8 were squirming in and around us, and Mr. Chen had to offer a terse “shoo!” to a few who were getting a bit too rambunctious. We had timed our visit to coincide with the school lunch break, so all kids were home. I thanked Mr. Chen for all he had done for the children, and told him on behalf of all the families in the USA and all over the world, we offer our prayers and thoughts of support for your family.

Before the kids got too rambunctious, We broke out the new jackets. The kids were elated with excitement. While Mr. and Mrs. Chen were probably most happy that the children would now be warm for the winter, the children were more concerned about the fancy new styles they were wearing. Each jacket was different, and just as soon as they all had put on their jacket, they took them off, and put them in a special place for safekeeping until the really cold weather arrived. It didn’t look like the children needed the coats anyway, they already were wearing multiple layers of shirts and sweaters, although looking a bit threadbare.

Mr. Chen then showed me around the place, with his children laughing and giggling around him. One of the children had a kitten, and he placed it on Mr. Chen’s back, and it crawled up and perched on his shoulder. Mr. Chen ignored this minor distraction. But on the other hand, perhaps he was quietly cherishing it.

With a very agile mind, he explained, through Mr. Huo, why he wanted to fix the roof, and moreover, rebuild the structure entirely. He told me that the roof leaks during the rains. Also, the alleyway running down the center of the home is below street level, and always floods during the summer rain. This is not good for daily living, as well as hygiene. As the girls are getting older, he wants to have a separate room for the boys and the girls.

After he was finished showing me around, we sat down and I let the videocamera roll. The children seemed interested in the camera for a while, but then were distracted. It was only after I interviewed the first child, and as a reward gave him a matchbox car, did all the other children hover in rapt anticipation. I gave each boy a matchbox car, and I gave each girl a fossilized shark’s tooth, which are found in Florida soil.

All the children bear the Chen family name.

Chen Quan is a boy of age 7 and has a repaired cleft palate. He is a bright an energetic kid who really wanted so badly to handle my videocamera. Chen Long, also 7, is disabled. He has no control over his legs or his bladder, and has to always wear diapers. He has no feeling from his ankles downward, and his feet are disfigured. He apparently had a corrective operation earlier in his life that went wrong. He also is nearsighted, but just had lost his glasses. Since they cost 68 RMB (less than $10), I asked Mr. Huo if he could please get this taken care of. Chen Long also gets around using a walker, which was a donation made by a kind man in Britain. He also received the gift of special shoes which grip the ankle to create some rigid support for his feet.
Chen Qiang, also aged 7, had a heart repair operation, and is now a boisterous youngster. Chen Jin, aged 5, has what the Chen’s call “a mental problem”, but it appears to be Down’s syndrome. He cannot speak clearly, and does not have much fine motor skills. The Chens state that Jin does not go to school.

Chen Yuan, Chen Juan, and Chen Rong are all girls, aged 12, 8, and 6 respectively. They were so happy to receive their sharks tooth necklaces. Finally there was little Chen Lin, a girl of 3, who had spinal corrective surgery. (all surgeries were done on a volunteer basis).

We also talked to the 2 beautiful young girls who are assisting with the Chen family, 7 days a week. They do everything from cooking and cleaning, to helping with schoolwork. Zhang Li and Wang Zhuang are both 18, and work from 6am in the morning to 8pm in the evening. Zhang Li has a 20 minute bike ride to and from work every day, and Wang Zhuang has a 50 minute bike ride each way.

When all the gifts had been given, I sat down and to have a chat with Mr. Chen. I told him how world famous he was, and that so many families wished they could be there to give him a big hug. He smiled again warmly and thanked me.

Soon 2 of the children, Quang and Qiang spoke excitedly to their papa. Mr. Huo translated that it was just about time for them to go to class, and they wanted to show me where they studied. Of course I agreed, but as both my hands were in the grip of a child pulling me towards the front door, I was yelling back on how I would find my way back. I soon discovered that the school was within sight of the Chen rooftops. As the two proud boys grasped my hands with a vice grip, we walked briskly towards the school.

By the look of blank stares and gaping mouths and frozen figures as we walked, it was clear to me that not many westerners came this way. A few of the smaller children actually ran away in fright. This caused the two boys to beam even brighter with pride and smiles, as they led me into the courtyard. There were several confrontations with other students, who rapidly asked them a question as they looked at me. The two boys were repeating the same phrase over and over, and I could hear the words for “America” (Mei-Guo) and “friend” (pong-yo) used. I could only imagine the way they felt, as they were the only kids not in uniform, as obviously the Chens could not afford it. As we rounded staircases and encountered children, we were met with gasps and recoils. Quang and Qiang continued to hold my hand firmly as they showed me off and very proudly showed me where both of their classrooms were. The crowd of confused children continued to gather around as we were led into the playground. Ping-pong balls bounced off the tables and on to the ground as the students froze when they saw me. Most children just stayed where they were, staring with their eyebrows furrowed in a mix of fear and confusion. An equal number of others ran towards us or ran away. Finally a bell sounded, and I thought I was going to be left to walk back to the house. But the 2 elated boys were proud to walk me back to the home, as they chatted back and forth to each other, and me dragging along behind, like a heavy cart.

It was clear to me then that the Chen family was full of the most important ingredient, love. Despite their living conditions, they appeared happy with their parents. I had seen many a vacuous expression from older children living in orphanages, which was a sort of Stress Trauma reaction to life in an orphanage. Feelings became repressed, smiles were forced, and emotional reactions seemed out of place to given stimuli. But here, the children seemed…. “normal”. It is certain that they realize that they are definitely in a different economic class than those around them, but that’s what we’re here for.

I promised myself that I would work hard for Mr. Chen, and help out in any way we could for his family’s uncertain future.

In my understanding, the Social Welfare institute is playing a very respectful waiting game, in light of Mr. Chen’s age. Mr. Huo told me that they are very sensitive to donations made to the Chen family, and that it all must be done very delicately. As stated before, on the other side of the coin, Mr. Chen is revered as a local hero, whose family is intact and happy. He is admired for his resistance to the local government, as well as for being a good parent. However, well-wishing doesn’t always pay the bills.

Mr. Chen then stated that it was time for the remaining children at home were due to go to the local hospital to get some free vaccinations. It was time for us to go.

I told Mr. Chen that I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression. In the past, other international donors had given a small donation, and that was it. I wanted him to know that I hoped to provide lasting support for the Chen family.

On our way out, he asked if he could take us out to lunch, which is a Chinese custom. In this custom, he would be the one to pay. In cultural correctness, we refused the offer, stating that we had other plans that needed attending to. As we stood outside his home, Mr. Chen’s large calloused hands held mine, and he smiled and in perfect English said, “Thank you”.

It was one of the most tender and moving things I had ever experienced. I was humbled by this great man, his very hard life, and his genuine love for these children. It was a distinct honor of my life to have met him, and a distinct honor to represent Packages of Hope on behalf of all the kind and generous families in providing assistance to his family.

I wanted to find a shop around town that sold some trinkets or souvenirs which would provide as a remembrance for my experience in this city. However, since this was not a big tourist destination, we found none. Instead I stopped and listened briefly to a group of men playing Beijing opera, with the local crowd stepping forward and doing their own performances.

That evening we had a dinner with the members of the Lanzhou foreign liaison office. They all thanked me for my work for the children, and I in returned thanked them for letting me have so much of Mr. Huo’s time. The Chinese sense of hospitality never ceased to amaze me. From taking care of my every need, to paying for nearly every meal, everywhere I went, I was so wonderfully cared for. I was commenting at the dinner that I had actually learned only a few new Chinese words. My helpful guides were constantly at my side, and I was never in want of a translator. However, I did learn a new bit of Lanzhou dialect, as I learned the phrase for “happiness” which was “Zou De Han” (where the “H” in “Han” is pronounced almost as a guttural dry gargling sound). Normally the Mandarin phrase is “Gou Xin”.

On Friday the 25th, I had some time to have a look at the local waterwheel park. It was dedicated to the man Duan Xu, a native of Lanzhou, that invented these particular waterwheels in the 1500’s. As an engineer it was fascinating to see the innovative ways Duan Xu designed water lifting systems and different milling mechanisms using waterwheel power.

In the afternoon, we visited the Lanzhou Social Welfare Institute.

At first, it was difficult for Mr. Huo to gain an audience on short notice. Furthermore, we were instructed that taking photos was not permitted.

It was only a short ride out of town into the surrounding hillsides. I could tell we had left town because we were no longer in the area of skyscrapers and busy paved streets. Instead were amidst low concrete and mud block row houses and businesses. Dust and haze permeated the air around moving vehicles. Occasionally a bike or three-wheel motorcycle could be seen hugging the edge of the road, out of the way of barreling vehicles. Everything seemed to take on the dull yellow or gray hue of the dust and dirt in the air.

Again, this particular site snuck up on us. (location: N36’ 01.999” E103’ 48.360”). Once we passed through the entrance gate, however, we entered into a well manicured plaza with brightly colored buildings. We were greeted by the orphanage director, Madam De Mei Lan.
After a short introduction, we went inside to a meeting room where I made a small donation of some children’s clothes, some diaper rash crème, antibiotic crème, and anti-itch crème. I showed them the Packages of Hope pamphlet, explaining our mission, and the whole room seemed to relax a little. When we went back outside to take an orphanage tour, I asked to take some photos, and the Director agreed without hesitation. I took a few pictures of the beautiful shaded play area, complete with what looked like a new playground.

I found out that the orphanage held 263 orphans under age 16 at the moment, and 100 of those were under the age of 4. 80% to 90% of the children were special needs, and that 20 to 30 children come there every year, and that this year, only 5 or 6 were adopted to foreigners. When I asked if any of the children were adopted domestically, she responded, “very seldom”.
I toured the first two floors of the young children’s building, and found big rooms with lots of toddlers, most of them looked to be special needs children. The rooms were clean and the beds were all made and they had plenty of blankets. Some of the children were at a center table playing with plastic toys. There were at least 2 nannies in every room, and they were dressed in uniforms and were genuinely smiling. I thanked them all for doing such a good job with the kids.