Just down the street from Fudan University, one of the top collegesin China, and across from a massive shopping complex that has a WalMart, a couple of Starbucks and KFCs, H&M, Sephora and Zara, amongother Western brands, lives Feng Zhenghu who for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week is barred from leaving hishome. In 2009, Feng garnered international media attention when he lived in Tokyo's Narita Airport for several months after the Chinese government repeatedly stopped him from enteringthe country. He eventually was allowed to return to his apartmentin Shanghai in 2010 and since then has faced random detentions inhis home, which is also regularly searched for contraband bypolice. "I don't know if there is any surveillance in my house, and I don'tcare," said Feng who is reachable via mobile in his apartment,which is just a couple of buildings away from mine in a complexthat has a fish pond, palm trees and a playground. "My phone isrecorded, my computer has been taken.
They can come to my houseanytime without notice as they please. I have no privacy at all,and it is all public to them." Feng has become an enemy of the state for the work that he does toeducate petitioners about their rights under Chinese law. China has hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions, ofpetitioners, or people who file grievances with the governmentagainst local officials for abuses ranging from corruption toforced land acquisition. They are usually poor, which means theycannot hire lawyers to help them solve their cases, which are alsorarely ever heard in local courts.
This means that most petitionersmake dozens of trips to Shanghai over the course of many years totry to find someone powerful in the central government to help themfind justice. Most never find any help at all. The dissident has made it his mission to push local courts to notdismiss cases from petitioners as well as help petitioners writecourt documents or other papers outlining their particularcomplaints. And for this, he has lost his freedom. In the beginning, when I moved into my apartment back in 2010, thesecurity apparatus was barely noticeable.
There were always somerandom men who looked like the type of men who might be found lateat night in a stale diner in a casino in Atlantic City. Thuggish.Gold chains. Greasy hair. One had a broken arm.
They would sit at the gate and smoke. After a while, they startedtalking to me. Offering me cigarettes. I would stand around andchat about America.
It was a good way to practice Chinese. Ithought they were part of the complex's management team. Once Iasked what they did, and they replied that just had some sort ofrandom business to do in the neighborhood. I thought nothing of it.Nor, it seemed, did anyone else who lived around me. I discovered who the men were and why they were there only a fewmonths ago when a Chinese friend of mine who worked for a foreignnews agency came to interview Feng.
The police arrived to stop himand the foreign reporter from entering Feng's building so they cameto my apartment for tea. Since then, I have been in touch with Fengvia phone to ask him some questions surrounding some stories I havebeen working on about black jails in China and to ask him aboutwhat it is like to be in prison in his home. "If I escape, those guards, the local public security bureau chief,the district governor, all of them will lose their jobs," he said."I have been with them for two years, and I understand them. It isalso hard for them, so I don't want to try to run away. Summer iscoming, and I worry for them.
The sun and mosquitoes are coming,and they have to stay outside. It is a pretty hard life for them asit is for me." Since the blind Chinese dissident Chen Guangcheng dramaticallyescaped from house arrest in a rural village in northern ShandongProvince at the end of April, the layers of security surrounding myapartment complex have multiplied. The guards are still at thegate. But now there are more who hang around all day near theentryway to Feng's building. There are new security cameras by theentrance.
This week, new ultra bright lights were installed on thegrounds. And now in front of Feng's building is a police carround-the-clock. I walk by it everyday. On my way to go buy coffeeor cigarettes or a newspaper, I peer inside the tinted windowswhere I see bored officers watching something on their mobilephones. The car is always on.
Sometimes there are people sitting inthe backseat. Sometimes there are not. Sometimes everyone inside isasleep. Sometimes they sit outside a small tea shop and watch mepass.
One night, one even said hello. Back in April, before the police car arrived out front, my newsassistant and I called Feng early one morning. We said we wouldcome to see him from the street. He walked to his window andbriefly peered outside. We snapped a photo.
He dropped us a packagewith a note that said he is allowed to walk outside in theafternoon for half an hour for fresh air, and that maybe we couldsee him then. Via phone, Feng told us that, unable to take the constantsurveillance, his wife has moved to Germany. "My life has become worse after her departure," Feng said. "Icannot even go out to buy food. I rely on visitors to bring mefood, and I cook a lot at once, and just eat the leftovers formeals." Georgie is a neighbor who visits Feng when he is let out of hisapartment in the afternoons.
Over the years, Georgie has developeda rapport with the guards, which now number at nearly 20 or so. Hesays they are migrant workers from provinces around Shanghai andmake a couple thousand yuan per month to monitor the dissident.When Feng is let out, he talks to the guards about current eventsor cooking. They talk about "how to stay healthy or what kind of televisionthey are watching or how to cook fish. That was yesterday's topic,"said Georgie who requested his full name not be disclosed out offear that he would no longer be able to visit Feng anymore. "Some of them, they have a good relationship [with Feng]," he said."The guards just consider this as any other job." The degree to which my neighbors are aware that their neighbor is adissident who is in prison in his home is unclear.
There are dailyrhythms of life here. Cars come and go. Children play socceroutside. Elderly men walk their dogs.
Women sit around the fishpond and chat in the evenings. Every time I enter the gate, I lookleft towards Feng's apartment and wonder what he is doing, whetherhe will ever get out and whether, for me, if it would have beenbetter to never know that he was there at all. "They are very worried right now that in Shandong a blind personcould escape such heavy security," Feng said. "They afraid that Imight run away too, and then they will lose their jobs.
So theirdays are not easy right now.". I am a professional writer from Handbags, Wallets & Purses, which contains a great deal of information about fetal heart beat , canon gun safes, welcome to visit!
Related Articles -
fetal heart beat, canon gun safes,
|
