The Chinese believe that a week after their deaths, departed souls will come back to visit their loved ones. It was not by chance that China choose to begin three days of national mourning a week after the May 12 quake.
The Embassy of the People's Republic of China in Singapore is located close to the British and Australian High Commission and the US Embassy, in a district where there is high security after terrorist bomb threats a few years ago. But today, there was practically free access to the Chinese mission. While all the other diplomatic missions were shut for the Buddhist Vesak Day holiday, it remained open.
Today there was to be a 3 minute silence for the Sichuan earthquake victims. There was also a steady flow of people, bearing cheque and cash donations. No guards stood at the side entrance, where a notice posting, instructing people to head upstairs. By 2.20pm the little corridor outside the main reception area that usually tended to consular affairs was filled with people, many perspiring from having made their way here in the 33 degree heat. They chatted about how much they were going to give, and deliberated if it was better to give Chinese yuan or Singapore dollars, after making up their minds to give their donations directly to the Chinese government rather than to go through an external aid organisation like the Red Cross. Was this a further display of patriotism stirred up by the furore against the Chinese in the West over the Tibet crackdown? Whatever it was, they came, believing that their government would see to it that the money got to where they intended for it.
Just a little while before the appointed time, the crowd settled into a hush, most uncharacteristic of any gathering place of more than a few Chinese people. People stopped fidgeting and at 2.28pm, a wail went off. It went on, alternating with a slightly shrill and persistent hum, forming in people's minds a soundtrack to the images they had seen on tv, in the internet, in the newspapers, on youtube, of victims being pulled out of rubble, of parents screaming for their lost children. Heads were bowed. No one made any eye contact or any noise. A few hands went up to wipe away tears that rolled down their cheeks.
When it ended, a man with a loudhailer said a few lines of encouragement and exhortation and the corridor erupted into applause, a sustained applause that was more pride than politeness. The queue regained momentum and one by one, group by group, people filed past the temporary counters set up in the reception area. The embassy staff had prepared a stack of printed receipts with the official stamp for the donors. People simply had to write their names and tell the staff how much they had donated and they would receive a copy.
No one seemed to care for the receipt, most just headed straight for the donation box, fashioned out of a recycled cardboard carton, slotted their money in at the top and moved along for the crowds behind them.
Outside in the main driveway, a flatscreen television had been set up and it was telecasting the national CCTV news channel. Several people paused and captured this image with their digital cameras. Those that had not come prepared used their camera phones.
A group of young Chinese students were gathered at a nearby MacDonald's after donating. For the first half an hour they spoke of nothing but the relief efforts. Then the conversation turned to the Tibet issue but within minutes it turned back to the earthquake in Sichuan.
“No army can rival our People's Liberation Army in these rescue efforts,” one declared. No more than 21, she was not trying to convert her companions at the table. She was merely stating her sentiments.
The Chinese flag at the embassy is sitting at half mast but the five golden stars are flying gloriously against the sea of red in the wind. The late Chinese independence leader Dr Sun Yat-Sen once said that Chinese people are as united as sand on a plate. He is not wrong, but these occasional moments of national tragedy do bring out something in the collective Chinese psyche that unites them - even if just temporarily - and makes them all so proud to be Chinese.
As the opening words of this film read,
“Who would have expected
this would be such a hard year
2008
We waited enthusiastically for sunshine and laughter
but were unexpectedly blocked on our paths by storms
In February a torturous snowstorm froze the landslides
In March Tibetan unrest burnt a beautiful holy ground
In April the international Olympic torch relay was hindered,
piercing the arms of the Chinese people, opened to the world.
A fickle May brought a railway collision,
shattering the dreams of many travellers.
Suddenly the hand foot and mouth disease spread to children countrywide,
fretting the hearts of parents nationwide.
An earthquake that shook Southeast Asia in Sichuan
rocked the soul of China.
But does China lower her head and lament?
No, she raises her burden.”
Patriotism sweeps through the land.
