Tour Dalian

DALIAN is a coastal city on the southernmost tip of China's Liaodong Peninsula. With mild temperatures year-round Dalian is a popular summer resort in northern China. Transportation to Dalian is convenient. The Dalian Zhoushuizi Airport serves 46 domestic and international airlines. Dalian Harbor connects with all domestic ports and harbors in 150 countries and regions. The railways join with Northeastern and Northern China's railway networks. The highway from Shenyang to Dalian goes across the Liaodong Peninsula.     

Night College Author Spends Five Years Getting Diploma in Spare Time

AT the age of 32, I went back to school. I enrolled as a student in the Department of History at a night college attached to Beijing Normal University. My son was only two years old at the time. At first I went to night classes just to earn a college diploma. I already had 15 years' work experience, including four years of being a magazine editor. But if I wanted to keep my job as editor, I had to obtain a diploma. When I first sat down in the terraced, 300-seat classroom and touched my new textbooks, I was full of a craving for knowledge. I knew that my classmates     

Spirit Coinciding with Nature

I have given a name to the studio where I make my soft sculptures: "Spirit Existing." It means that my life exists together with my spirit; that spirit is inseparable from body. I believe the original nature of life is the most beautiful thing in the world. On September 6th, 1997, I handed in my resignation to the tax bureau where I worked. Leaving my family and my son at home, I came to Beijing alone to create a new life for myself. As a woman making such a choice at the age of 35, I     

新年新愿望(英文)

Yangchun Baixuepainter杨春白雪 小画家"I would have a pair of wings with which I would fly to all places of happiness. Even if I could not get the wings, I would have a greater imagination.In the crispy air in the early morning, I will hear the singing of nature. When it snows, I will see flowers of spring in full bloom. In the spring wind, I will fly like a bird. I believe deeply that apes would possibly still roam wild if they did not have an imagination.In the new year, the wings of my dreams will be even stronger."     

Flawers of the Sun

I was not a flower lover when I was a little girl. Instead, I spent my days mixing with the "mischievous" boys in the neighborhood; my favorite toys were wooden sticks which I imagined to be guns. I guess part of the reason for my unusual behavior goes to the influence of my father serving in the army and China was undergoing the Cultural Revolution. Then all things beyond bare necessity were categorized as bourgeois extravagance. How could a prole-tariat offspring come to love flowers, which     

Remembering Tibet

I close my eyes. The children with whom I stayed with in Lhasa appear before me. In the pink world they smile. It is a strange feeling. I have been to Tibet twice. I remember how the Lhasa children would walk on the streets in Lhasa: when they spotted a man and a woman holding hands, they would sing, "You Are Late", a popular song of that time. "I had her in my heart a long time ago./Oh! She arrived before you." When the young couple turned around, the children would run away. Then they searched for another couple. What I most remember about Tibet is     

中原行(英文)

I am a professional photographer. I like to take pictures of the most common rural scenes and farmers in a very simple way. To me, the more common a thing is, the closer it is to the nature of life. With my portable Leica camera, I went to the Central Plains(especially Henan Province)twice:     

信箱(英文)

Sexual Harassment, When No Means No hit home《性骚扰,女性不再沉默》令我深思What a great magazine! It is so good, well-written, and has great pictures. I liked the articles on sexual harassment. All the articles were interesting and I loved them! When I received your magazine, it made my day. I have been in and out of the hospital all summer. I have had a tough summer! Sexual Harassment, When No Means No hit home. I have been sexually harassed many times! From the time I was a teenager. On the job, I encountered the same thing. I kept quiet, because I felt no one would believe me. I never told anyone. My husband would say it was my fault. I hope I am not the only one out with this problem. I also love the pictures in your magazine. It gave me insight.Cindy White, USA     

A Self-portrait

I was fond of literature from childhood. But I wasstudying hard to become a doctor and never thought ofliving off writing. I began my writing career from the May FourthMovement in 1919. At first, as a member of the FemaleStudents Federation, I wrote some articles for publication.At that time the turbulent Chinese youth's patrioticmovement and the new cultural movement brought me outof the home and campus. I began to witness the pressing     

Pasta, Shanxi Style Hand-pulled Noodles Loved by Tourists and Residents Alike

I had my most delicious meal with noodles in a small village along the Yellow River. It was on a March day a decade ago, when I had just moved to Shanxi Province. I was out in the field as a reporter, and was exhausted and starving after traveling more than 50 kilometers on foot and by bus. A middle-aged man, whom I did not know, was standing in front of his dugout cave, the traditional dwelling of the Shanxi people." He called to me and invited me to have a meal in his home. Upon entering the cave, I was asked to sit on a kang, a brick bed, while the man's wife busied herself with cooking my meal. In no time a huge bowl of youpomian, noodles with Chinese prickly ash oil, was on the table in front of me. My nostrils were immediately filled with the strong and delicious smell of chili and prickly ash.     

Disabled Athlete Wins Olympic Gold

Iam 21 years old. My home is in a small village of Putian, Fujian Province. Like thousands of healthy children, I once had a colorful childhood. Unexpectedly, however, I contracted an eye disease at the age of 13 and began to gradually lose my eyesight. At first, I cherished a gleam of hope that heaven would kindly make me see light again someday. My mother took me to one hospital after another for treatment, but my eyesight remained dim. I became frightened and restless. I realized that sometime soon I might no longer be able to see my mother's kind face, my father's thin figure, the golden rape flowers in the fields, or the meandering stream by the village. In the daytime, the adults went to work in the fields and the children went to school. I was left alone in the empty house. I tried     

The Golden Fall

ON a windy evening, I rode my bicycle past the newly-built Guangming overpass in Beijing and heard sounds of gongs and drums. Through the haze I saw a group of people dancing yangge(the most popular folk dance in Northern China) against the wind. Walking more closely to observe, I saw a group of old women     

To Keep the Tears to Myself

In the six years that I have lived in Beijing as a migrant worker, I have experienced the ups and downs of reality. I am no longer the girl of six years ago who left home for the big city. As far as women migrant workers are concerned, I dare say that I could be considered a success story, because I have learned…     

Simmered Slips of Naked Oats

IN 1968, I, a middle school graduate, went to live and work as a farmer in Dongru, a small mountain village in north China. Later, I became a shop assistant in the county town. I spent nine years of my life there—from age 17 to 26. The memory of those years has begun to fade; only some words are left here as a reminder of my youth. In May, 1971, the county's settlement office began transferring the urban educated youth from the countryside into the county-town. One     

A Chef for 34 Years

FOREIGNERS who have been to Beijing are probably familiar with the Beijing International Hotel near the main railway station. It's the four-star hotel where I work as a chief cook. My job is to manage nine kitchens—both Chinese and Western. I have been a chef for 34 years. After graduated from school in 1964, I studied Chinese cuisine for three years. I believed that it was a job worth doing. In the past, people looked down on this occupation; they thought it was a low-class job because cooks were always serving other people. I, however, found the job very interesting. After all, I reasoned, everyone needs to eat. If we could make eating into a kind of art or a science, eating could become an act of culture. People engaged in the food industry treat the act of eating with a respect that most people cooking at home do not feel. But for those of us who work in prestigious hotels whose guests come from all over the world and have different customs and tastes, it is our job to put the Chinese cooking cultu     

Professional Women in China： Back to Basics

I want to share a practical assignment that I often use with clients, I＇ve just returned from a first meeting with a client who will spend the nextfew months completing a communication-coaching program that I offer. While specific objectives differ from person to person, the general purpose of the program is to help （usually female） Chinese professionals improve their ability to communicate, at a regional or global level, with confidence and influence.     

When One Is Over 40 Years Old

AN 80-year old woman, who was recovering from a bone injury, once told me that she would be traveling around the world for the rest of her life. Listening to her touching and admirable plan, I realized that the loss of one's ability to do a certain thing will cultivate a longing for that particular thing. This longing was also with me the year I became 40. At that time, I frequently thought back over all l had done during the past 40 years, I     

A De'ang Wedding

Every wedding is different, but somehow they are all the same. That is what I felt when I attended the wedding of Yang Yubu, a De'ang young woman who is an acquaintance of mine. Chudonggua Village is located at the eastern part of Santai Township. It is about 30 kilometers away from tile seat of Mangshi. When I learned that Yubu was going to get married, I jumped onto a shuttle bus that would take me past the foot of the mountain where the village sits. Halfway along the journey, I disembarked and started     

From Pupa to Butterfly

IN front of me is the Floating Stone, an autobiography-like novel written by a farmer writer. With a not very eye-catching cover and a somewhat baffling name, the book is not quite interesting to me. Care-freely, I took up the book and scanned it. Unexpectedly, I was attracted and finished reading the     

Comfort Zone

It＇s been a since I took hometown, tram drivers couple of years the bus in my Helsinki. The are notoriously unfriendly, but I have always thought it rather safe to approach a bus driver with a simpleenquiry about the fare. ＂Three euros＂ said the driver, without moving a single facial muscle, eyes firmly fixed on the surface of the asphalt.