Almost There

Bill, a reporter for the radio branch of my company joined me a couple of days later in Chengdu. He speaks little Chinese, so we did our reporting together and I doubled up as his interpreter.

For the entire length of my trip, I tried to avoid contact with the authority, for fear that they would ask me for my credential. Bill had no fear. He wanted voices from “the officialdom,” and I had to be there to translate. As an American citizen, he in general enjoys more protection than I do. Luckily, for the most part we were not asked to present any paperwork.

One day we tried to access Beichuan, where nearly eight thousand had died in the earthquake and thousands more were missing. After hours driving in hairpin mountain roads littered with boulders shaken down the slopes, we were, however, barred from entering. Police told us the town was sealed for fear of disease spreading. Right by the traffic check point, there was a military camp. Soldiers wearing medical masks were spraying disinfectant on vehicles and people coming back from Beichuan.

I walked out of our car and started filming the soldiers at a distance. A few minutes without being noticed, I was emboldened and walked up closer to the camp. Then one soldier, who looked senior to the rest, strode up to me and asked: “Hey, who do you work for?” His tone was casual and friendly.

“Oh, Shanghai TV.” I blurted out.

“Really?” He sounded excited, “I’m from Shanghai, too. Why don’t you stay with us!”

Several other soldiers hustled up and surrounded me. A younger one said: “Yes. Stay with us here. We have female soldiers. You can stay with them.”

“Maybe, maybe tomorrow.” I stuttered, “I have a deadline tonight and I need to get back to my colleagues.”

“What’s your phone number? Give us your phone number.” They were not ready to let me go.

“Eh, I, I don’t know. I mean, I just got this local number yesterday and I can’t remember it. How about you give me mine and I will call you.” I was thinking hard for an exit strategy.

“Who’s that?” One soldier suddenly sounded tense and alert and pointed behind me. I turned around and saw Bill.

“Oh, he? I don’t really know. He’s a hitchhiker we just picked up on the way here.”
I then whispered to Bill, “I told them I don’t know you.”

Keeping a poker face, Bill walked back towards the car.

The soldiers were quiet for a second, as if trying to figure out whether to believe me.

“I, I really need to get back.” I broke the silence, and started peddling back. “My deadline is approaching. It’s really nice to see you all. I’ll visit again tomorrow.” I backed out of the circle, waving them goodbye.

When I got into the car and drove off, they were still watching.