Most people know about the horrors perpetrated by the sadistic heads of Nazi concentration camps during World War II. Many also know about the American failures to rescue Jewish refugees and the general lack of urgency about shutting down the camps. I think the number of people who know about the atrocities committed by Japan during WWII, and the part America played in that is much lower. Today I came across some information so disturbing I feel I really need to write about it.

WARNING: This blog entry contains graphic descriptions of the horrifying human experiments carried out at Unit 731 by Japanese scientists. If you have a weak stomach, or just aren’t looking to read something disturbing, I highly suggest you skip this entry.

For China, World War II began in 1931, when Japan invaded Manchuria, seizing a large chunk of territory and setting up a puppet state called Manchukuo. Harbin, of course, is a part of that region, and so came under Japanese jurisdiction starting in 1931.

In 1932, the chief medical officer of the Japanese army, Shiro Ishii, was placed in command of the “Army Epidemic Prevention Research Laboratory”, based in a suburb south of Harbin. Here, secret chemical and biological research was conducted until the facility was attacked in 1935. The Japanese government, sold on the usefulness of this type of research, gave Ishii a blank check to begin a more extensive program, and in 1936 his team began work in a much larger facility closer to Harbin. Officially, they were the Epidemic Prevention and Water Purification Department of the Kwantung Army. Colloquially, they were known as Unit 731.

Officially, the 731 was a lumber mill; but in actuality its purpose was human experimentation. Scientists and staff jokingly referred to their test subjects as “logs”; these logs were acquired by the Japanese secret police, who stole men, women, and children off the streets and shipped them by train to Unit 731. What exactly happened to people once they got there? The list is long, and extremely horrible.

For one, the scientists performed numerous vivisections–surgeries on live patients–often without anesthesia. Sometimes they would infect the “test subjects” with diseases first. Sometimes they removed organs. They amputated limbs, sometimes reattaching them to the opposite side of the body, they froze and unthawed body parts to study the effects of gangrene, removed parts of people’s brains, raped and impregnated women and then experimented during the pregnancy. They even performed vivisections on newborn infants.

God, I wish that were all.

They also tested the effectiveness of explosives (and effective treatments for shrapnel wounds) by tying unprotected test subjects (i.e., Chinese people) to boards at varying distances surrounding an explosive, and then detonating it. They also tested numerous chemical and biological agents in this manner, as well as flame-throwers.

They infected their subjects with numerous diseases from syphilis to the bubonic plague, then infested their living quarters with fleas. The resultant infected fleas were dropped from airplanes over Chinese cities, resulting in thousands of deaths.

Other miscellaneous experiments were also performed. The full extent of these will probably never be known, so here’s a sampling courtesy of Wikipedia. Prisoners were subjected to:

-being hung upside down to see how long it would take for them to choke to death.
-having air injected into their arteries to determine the time until the onset of embolism.
-having horse urine injected into their kidneys.
-being deprived of food and water to determine the length of time until death.
-being placed into high-pressure chambers until death.
-being exposed to extreme temperatures and developed frostbite to determine how long humans could survive with such an affliction, and to determine the effects of rotting and gangrene on human flesh.
-having experiments performed upon prisoners to determine the relationship between temperature, burns, and human survival.
-being placed into centrifuges and spun until dead.
-having animal blood injected and the effects studied.
-being exposed to lethal doses of x-ray radiation.
-having various chemical weapons tested on prisoners inside gas chambers.
-being injected with sea water to determine if it could be a substitute for saline.

I wish I were making this up, but the people at Unit 731 even gave out poisoned candy to children to study its effects in the local population.

Now, all of that alone would be horrifying enough, but unfortunately there’s more. When the war ended, Shrio Ishii and his fellow butchers knew their lives were in danger, but they also know that their experimental data would be of interest to American military scientists (who weren’t allowed to experiment on people) eager to get a head start on the Russians. They met with the Americans and parlayed a deal, trading the data on their horrifying experiments in return for complete and total immunity. I’ll say that again, because it bears repeating: The United States of America granted the heads of Unit 731 complete immunity. Shiro Ishii, a man who Joseph Mengele could take evil lessons from, died in 1959 of natural causes, without having served a single day in prison.

Someday, I intend to go to Unit 731, which still exists today as a museum. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stomach it, but it seems like the sort of thing I should see anyway, as a reminder of the horrible things that war and righteous nationalism result in.

Teaching English. It is the classic expatriate profession, the long-popular escape for nationals of any English-speaking country with an itch to travel and a semi-respectable command of the English language. But what is teaching English actually like? It’s sort of a hellish language, really, full of contradictory spelling rules, labyrintian grammatical constructions and sometimes-nonsensical pronunciations (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, refer to the classic “ghoti” example). It’s especially difficult for Chinese students in that it’s essentially the opposite of Chinese, which has a simple grammar and no verb conjugation at all. So how do they learn it, and how do expats, most of whom speak no Chinese, teach them?

First of all, English is almost always taught by Chinese-speaking teachers, at least in part. It is a required part of the curriculum for all students beginning in middle school; most Chinese students of English won’t encounter a foreign teacher until college. Even then, their main teachers are still generally Chinese people rather than native speakers, except at the most prestigious schools. The college I teach at, for example, has plenty of regular English classes, almost all taught by Chinese people. Foreigners are brought in for special “speaking practice” classes and also Spoken English seminars. So at the college level, my priority as an English teacher is generally just to get them to actually talk, and work on their pronunciation a bit on the assumption that their regular English teachers will iron out grammatical errors, although I do correct the major ones whenever they crop up.

For those students lucky enough to be able to afford to attend a private English school (like the one I work for) before learning English in their regular schools, the approach is different. At our school, we teach with Chinese TAs who help translate whenever it’s needed and take care of some of the administrative stuff (God bless them, they also deal with parents for the most part). Most students start with no English, so the early stuff is mostly teaching them set phrases: hello, goodbye, how are you today, etc. My younger kids don’t, for the most part, have any idea what conjugation is or that there are rules that exist to govern it. They just know that you have to say “I am”, but “he is”, “we are”, etc. They don’t know why.

College students most common problems tend to be with pronunciation, fluency, and memorizing the vast variety of different words that get thrown at them. Many of them can read and write at a much higher level than they can speak. The young children I teach are almost exactly the opposite, their issues tend to pop up most often when they’re trying to read and spell, but often they can respond to questions they hear fairly well.

Students at both levels, and even adult speakers with fairly good English, often struggle with the sounds in English that don’t exist in Chinese, especially the “th” sound in “thanks” and the “v” sound in “very”. The word “usually” also becomes “urally” frequently, although I’m not sure why. I try to drill these sounds frequently with my little kids, but it’s a constant struggle, especially when they get old enough that they are taking regular English classes in school, since most of those English teachers also can’t say the sound correctly.

Still, their English is a hell of a lot better than most Americans’ Chinese…

“Free Tibet” is a phrase with a bit of a history. More or less since the Chinese army entered Tibet in 1951, some people have complained that Tibet should be its own country. Over time, rhe cause became popular among Westerners, especially students and celebrities. The intensity of the protesting comes and goes as things in Tibet happen (or don’t), but the song has remained more or less the same: “Free Tibet.” Well, in the West, anyway.

Why has this particular cause attracted so much attention in the West? As I see it, there are two reasons. One is Western perception of the Chinese government, which is shaped mainly by the knowledge that they are Communist and that they once killed students in Tiananmen Square. They are, as a result, “evil”. Western perceptions of Tibetans are based on the Dalai Lama, who seems calm, wise, peaceful, spiritual—everything it seems the Chinese government is not. Controversy closer to home is always complicated, but from afar the China-Tibet issue comes off as good-versus-evil to the uninformed.

The other reason I believe Tibet has attracted so much attention is that it appears to a certain nostalgia many Western intellectuals have; a desire to return to a simpler, more “pure” time. Tibet’s “spiritual” traditional society, its ruggedly beautiful terrain, and its ancient, mysterious religion all give it a special sort of “flavor” that Westerners feel is being destroyed by the modernity the Chinese government brings to Tibet.

Unfortunately, those perceptions are grossly misguided. Traditional Tibetan society was essentially a slave society. The vast majority of Tibetans were extremely poor, there was no real justice system, and the political structure of its “spiritual” government was rife with corruption, exploitation, and perversion. In the book The Struggle for Modern Tibet (the autobiography of a Tibetan who has lived in Tibet, mainland China, India, and the United States), Tashi Tsering describes how he was chosen to become a dancer for the Dalai Lama, taken from his family (forever) as a kind of “tax”, and forced into a dance troupe run by a sadistic director and forever plagued by horny Tibetan monks. These monks (not allowed to marry) took out their sexual frustration through sexual relationships with the children in the dance troupe—Tsering describes this as common practice. Anyone who believes Tibet should return to its roots, leave China, and become a religious nation headed by the Dalai Lama should read that book.

Similarly, what China does in Tibet often goes unreported or is misinterpreted by a Western public eager to find fault with the Chinese government. For example, last May, some Tibetans began a violent riot that caused millions of dollars in damage and touched off a series of racially-motivated hate crimes against Han Chinese and Muslims. Non-Tibetans in Lhasa were stabbed, beaten, and even burned alive in the streets. The Chinese government sent in police to stop the riots, and even though there’s no evidence of violence and the Western reporter in Lhasa at the time reported seeing no police misconduct, the story that played in the West was one of a “brutal crackdown” against “peaceful Tibetan protesters”. CNN even doctored a photo of Chinese police vehicles that ran on their website, editing out Tibetan rioters who were attacking the trucks. Myriad other news media ran misleading headlines and photographs, including numerous photographs of police in Nepal beating protesters that were labeled as if they were photos from China.

Lest you think I’m parroting the Party line here, I urge you to read the aforementioned book (The Struggle for Modern Tibet) and do some research about Western news coverage of Tibet yourself. All of this stuff is well-documented.

You might be surprised to learn that even the Dalai Lama isn’t interested in seeing a fully independent Tibet. While he does want more political autonomy for the region, he does not want it to be a separate country. Nor should he. If Tibet became independent, it would be a disaster for the Tibetan people.

Why? Well, as it turns out, Tibet is still quite undeveloped, economically speaking. China pours money in but gets almost nothing back. The Economist reports:

In 2001, for example, for every renminbi of Tibet’s economic growth, central-government spending increased by Rmb2, according to Mr Fischer. In that year alone, state spending increased by 75%. By 2004 the situation had changed only slightly, with Rmb0.65 of economic growth requiring only Rmb1 of increased subsidies and state investment.
-The Economist

Many might be inclined to blame this on government policies designed to keep Tibet weak, but actually NPR reports that in fact, Beijing pays for 90% of all government expenditures in Tibet, and floats gigantic infastructure projects like new highways and a massive hydroelectric dam.

Now, let’s imagine for a second that tomorrow, Tibet were to become its own country again. What would happen?

Well, the Dalai Lama and the rest of the exile community would probably return. They would arrive to find a society greatly changed from the one they ruled half a century ago, and a people who have had little contact with them for decades. They would also find strong racial tensions that did not exist in the 1950s, and that has frequently erupted into violence in the past. They would also find the embittered remnants of the former Tibetan provincial government, possibly unwilling to rescind control. It seems unlikely that the exile leaders would actually be able to run a modern nation on their own; but even if they were theoretically capable, what money would they use?

As mentioned above, Tibet’s economic output is insufficient to support the region. The removal of all Beijing’s political infastructure would undoubtedly weaken Tibet’s economy further, leaving the new “nation” in the hands of an inexperienced relgious sect with little governing experience and no money.

Tibet would have almost no hope of finding support from other nations, either. China would certainly never support an independent Tibet, and other nations would also refuse support for fear of angering China and harming trade relations.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it, and I can’t imagine any way that a “Free Tibet” wouldn’t quickly devolve into some third-world hellhole, complete with all the starvation and social instability that comes along with that title.

Maybe someone can convince me otherwise, but it seems to me that the first thing we should have in mind here is what’s best for the Tibetan people, and I just can’t see any way it’s good for the Tibetan people to separate from China. Feel free to argue with me in the comments.

Sorry for the lack of recent updates. In addition to work, I’m currently trying to apply for several different jobs as well as graduate school, and I’m also sick, so my time has been limited. There are at least two video features in the works, though.

I’m also thinking about doing a survey of some of my English classes. I teach almost all college students at this point, and I probably see about 500 different students every week. It struck me I’m in a pretty good position to survey them (in English), which is a language practice opportunity for them and a learning opportunity for us.

My question to YOU, dear reader(s?) is: what questions would you like to see on the survey? Feel free to list as few or as many as you would like.

Much has been said about China’s famous One Child Policy, which supposedly encourages families to have only one child through a system of fines implemented at the provincial level. Members of Chinese minority groups are not subject to this policy, but are other people really subject to it either?

Plenty of people will tell you that implementation and enforcement of the policy varies from place to to place, and that (as with everything), those with money can easily get out of it. The punishment for having extra children is just a fine, which is scaled based on a family’s income, and a denial of extra social benefits (i.e., a family with two children receives the same benefits that a family with one child receives, not more).

Still, there has been much talk about the detrimental effects of the policy, which has been accused of everything from creating “little Emperors” to being a form of eugenics. Others have praised it, noting that China already has a lot of people (1.3 billion) and doesn’t need more.

If my experience in the classroom is any indication, though, even twenty years ago when my college students were being born, the policy wasn’t being that harshly enforced. In discussing family with them, I have been rather surprised to learn that many of them (at least half, sometimes more) have siblings. Given that some of the only children are probably due to parental preference or other non-policy related reason (there are, after all, plenty of only children in America, too), I’d estimate that between 20% and 40% of the students in my class have actually been affected by the policy (i.e., they don’t have siblings because it’s illegal). That number is a lot lower than I expected, and my classes sort of run the demographical gamut so it isn’t likely just a weird sampling error: there are students from urban and rural backgrounds, from all over China (although most of them are from the northern half).

I’ve been surprised by this; thought you might be too.

As previously reported, Harbin has been abuzz with the news that a college student was beaten to death by police outside a popular bar on the night of October 11. Further controversy erupted when security camera footage revealed that the student instigated the fight–repeatedly–and that his death was not on tape.

The coroner’s report still isn’t in from what I can tell browsing through today’s newspapers, but it may not really matter anyway. An older Chinese man who is a friend of mine and a former Harbin police officer described the justice system to me thusly when we were talking about the situation last night:

What will happen is: the police will go to the family of the kid who died and say, “how much money do you want? However much money you want, we’ll give you. Then they’ll go to the court and say the same thing, and everyone will just forget about the whole thing.

If it really creates a big stir, then the authorities in Beijing will force the court to make a judgement and the police officers will go to jail. Then the police will give money to the jail, and the police officers will be released to their homes for the remainder of their sentences ‘for health reasons’.

Cynical stuff, but this is a guy who knows a bit about the inner workings of the Harbin police force. By way of explaining he also taught me an expression: “大事化小，小事化了.” It means “big issues [naturally] become small, small issues [naturally] disappear.” And indeed that seems to be the case.

The news that the student was the one who initiated the attacks seems to have mitigated anger directed at the police. Although personally I feel there’s no excuse for killing someone who isn’t seriously threatening your life, many people feel the student’s behavior (as seen on the CCTV tapes) was inexcusable. The news that he drove a very expensive car has caused some people to write him off as another spoiled Chinese rich kid, a “punk” that the country is better off without. Still, plenty of people have gotten drunk and done something truly idiotic at some point in their lives; it doesn’t seem fair that this guy had to die for it.

We’re still waiting for the coroner’s report, and to see if justice will be served in the end or not. I don’t know what the chances really are, but here’s hoping.

(As a sidenote, there seem to be more police on the streets since the incident happened. The same Chinese friend and ex-cop I mentioned above noticed it the other day and commented, “Damn, they beat a guy to death, now suddenly they’re everywhere.”)

…Probably.

A college student here in Harbin got into an argument with 6 police officers outside the BOX nightclub over a parking space. The argument escalated into fighting, which the student initiated, and then the next day the student’s corpse was found on the street outside the club.

The 6 police and three of the college student’s friends who were at the scene have been detained; no one really knows what happened yet. Even the student’s cause of death is up for grabs, the medical report hasn’t come back yet.

I’ll have a much more in-depth update, very possibly in video format, sometime in the next few days, but I wanted to let people know about this ASAP.

For Further Reading: ChinaSMACK Coverage

I’ve been listening to some of my music recently for the first time in a while, and came across this little gem. In November 2006, Sarah Clark and I opened for singer/pianist/songwriter Vienna Teng. Since Vienna’s music is a lot more like Sarah’s than mine and we knew the crowd was looking for a concert concert (as opposed to a show-at-a-bar type concert) anyway, we adapted a bunch of my songs into the just-piano-and-vocals format.

Knowing this would be either cool or a huge disaster, I recorded it. It turned out to be very cool, but the recordings never saw the light of day, for two reasons. One is that the gain was set slightly too high on the input so of the six songs we performed, only 3 were even listenable. The other, more important reason was that Sarah wasn’t satisfied with how her voice sounded and didn’t want the recordings out there. I thought she sounded great and still do, but it’s her choice to make, not mine. The songs stayed hidden.

Today, I came across those recordings and decided to listen just for the fun of it. As it turns out, Sarah Clark doesn’t sing on “November Alone”, so she’s OK with me posting it. If you can get by the pops and crackles, I think you’ll really enjoy it.

November Alone [Live]

A few minutes ago I was testing the waters in Baidu’s MP3 search (which is reportedly disabled for those of you living stateside, but works fine for those of us here in China). In the interest of seeing just how deep the rabbit hole goes (and, of course, also in the interest of vanity) I searched for myself, and somewhat shockingly got results.

Anyway, amongst the results I discovered this: a giant album of remixes by producer Gamshooter, which includes remixes of three of my songs (the originals: Just Music, One Sip, and Rain is Gone). He makes them slightly more danceable, which is probably a good thing to some of you and a bad thing to others; anyway, they’re definitely skillfully made.

Actually, the whole album, which is called Obligatory Rap Music for Kids in XXXXXL T-Shirts, is probably worth checking out. I’ve only had a chance to listen to what he did with my songs so far, but I see my friend Point Game is on the tracklisting as well, and his work is always worth peeping.

I think most of the people who read this blog live outside China. As such, I would be remiss if I didn’t bring this to your attention. There is now a program you can download that allows you to tour a virtual re-creation of the Forbidden City in Beijing.

Basically, they’ve remade the entire Forbidden City in 3-D for you to tour at your leisure. Anyone who’s been to the real thing knows it’s HUGE, and they don’t seem to have skipped anything in the remake except that you can’t go into any of the little shops and museums that exist in real life.

It has tons of extra features, too. There are preprogrammed “tour guides” standing around who you can talk to, and take various themed tours with, ranging from an exploration of the Forbidden City’s feng-shui to a tour of the various dragons in the architecture. There are also recreations of various scenes from daily life in the Forbidden City, although I haven’t had time to check them out yet. As if that weren’t enough, it appears to be internet-based, so that when you’re touring you can meet and chat with the other people touring it too, if you so choose.

It isn’t without its flaws, of course. It didn’t work for me until I registered for their website even though it claims you can enter as a guest. The music turned on and off at random while I was walking around, and there are texture-popping issues (for those of you who aren’t video game geeks, that means that sometimes if you’re far enough away from something it looks like it isn’t there, then as you walk closer it suddenly appears, then as you grow closer details start to pop out that weren’t there before).

Still, it’s free, and it’s 512 MB. It’s available for Mac and Windows, so if you’re at all interested in Chinese history, or even just in seeing one of the most spectacular historical tourist sites the world has to offer without the hassle of huge crowds, airfare, and ever-rising entry fees (not to mention tired feet!), you might as well check it out. It’s not the smoothest-running thing around, but it’s still pretty damn cool. Here’s hoping they make things like this for more cool places around China and the world.