It started with a rumble. This was not just the everyday sound of a few people screaming and honking on the streets. This rumble started low, but grew in volume in a way I'd never before experienced in China.
Then I heard the chanting, the repetitive chanting. The pointed polyphony was certainly a new experience in a country that denies its people the right to assemble. I knew whatever this ruckus was, it was powerful.
I hurried up the 18 flights of stairs to the top of our apartment building so I could search for the source of the shouts. As I gazed in between the countless other skyscrapers around me, I finally found it: a massive mob. Throngs of people were marching down Tianmushan Road, a major thoroughfare in Hangzhou. The crowds spanned the entire width of the six lane corridor. The protest was making its way towards us, as the leaders waved vast Chinese flags and chanted into bullhorns. The demonstration stretched for at least several long blocks. I couldn't even see the end of the crowds.
I figured out later this was a state-sponsored spectacle geared to whip up patriotic fervor. China and Japan were fighting over strategic islands in the East China Sea, and China was trying to distract its people from some domestic disputes at the time. Businesses selling Japanese products, such as a nearby Lexus dealer, closed up shop and hastily hung up a massive Chinese flag in an attempt to protect their store.
I felt equal parts awe and unease as I took in this protest. Gazing at the gargantuan gaggle of people offered visceral proof of just how populated this country really was. The bodies, the shouts, the muscles, and the emotions of that gathered mass were mighy indeed. And dangerously volatile.* I realized just how drunk on power one could become if they had the ability to direct that energy. And that Sunday, September 16, 2012, the mob's energy happened to be directed against the Japanese.
The thought that suddenly popped into my mind made me shudder: what if that energy was directed against me? My blonde haired, blue eyed self wouldn't stand a chance if that mob focused its rage on another foreign enemy. I quietly descended the 18 flights of stairs and slipped back into my apartment, afraid to go outside that afternoon.
The next day, our daily Bible reading came from Psalm 56. Here are some excerpts:
Be gracious to me, O God, for people trample on me;
all day long foes oppress me;
my enemies trample on me all day long,
for many fight against me.
O Most High, when I am afraid,
I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I am not afraid;
what can flesh do to me?
This I know, that God is for me.
In God, whose word I praise,
in the Lord, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I am not afraid.
What can a mere mortal do to me?
(Psalm 56: 1-4, 9-11).
And here is my journal except in response:
Jesus, I pray for protection for Brian and me. Thank you for the reading from Psalm 56 today, reassuring us that mortals can do nothing to us if you are on our side (also the theme of [the sermon at church] yesterday). I must admit a little fear at seeing those (state sponsored) protests yesterday...it was scary to see some of the xenophobia (September 17, 2012).
God reassured us multiple times, through Sunday's sermon and the Bible reading on Monday, of our divine protection. That protection is there for any of us if we simply ask for it. As our time in China unfolded, Brian and I developed the daily habit of praying a prayer of protection every morning. If it was good enough for the Psalmist and good enough for St. Patrick, then it was good enough for us. It's a habit we continue to keep, and it has served us well.
*We later learned that deadly stampedes occur frequently in China. A few years later in Shanghai, on December 31, 2014, 36 people died in a deadly crush trying to celebrate New Year's Eve on the Bund, Shanghai's iconic riverside promenade. The exact cause remains unclear, yet I now understand after the 2012 protests just how easily any panic could quickly escalate into injury and even death.
Then I heard the chanting, the repetitive chanting. The pointed polyphony was certainly a new experience in a country that denies its people the right to assemble. I knew whatever this ruckus was, it was powerful.
I hurried up the 18 flights of stairs to the top of our apartment building so I could search for the source of the shouts. As I gazed in between the countless other skyscrapers around me, I finally found it: a massive mob. Throngs of people were marching down Tianmushan Road, a major thoroughfare in Hangzhou. The crowds spanned the entire width of the six lane corridor. The protest was making its way towards us, as the leaders waved vast Chinese flags and chanted into bullhorns. The demonstration stretched for at least several long blocks. I couldn't even see the end of the crowds.
I figured out later this was a state-sponsored spectacle geared to whip up patriotic fervor. China and Japan were fighting over strategic islands in the East China Sea, and China was trying to distract its people from some domestic disputes at the time. Businesses selling Japanese products, such as a nearby Lexus dealer, closed up shop and hastily hung up a massive Chinese flag in an attempt to protect their store.
I felt equal parts awe and unease as I took in this protest. Gazing at the gargantuan gaggle of people offered visceral proof of just how populated this country really was. The bodies, the shouts, the muscles, and the emotions of that gathered mass were mighy indeed. And dangerously volatile.* I realized just how drunk on power one could become if they had the ability to direct that energy. And that Sunday, September 16, 2012, the mob's energy happened to be directed against the Japanese.
The thought that suddenly popped into my mind made me shudder: what if that energy was directed against me? My blonde haired, blue eyed self wouldn't stand a chance if that mob focused its rage on another foreign enemy. I quietly descended the 18 flights of stairs and slipped back into my apartment, afraid to go outside that afternoon.
The next day, our daily Bible reading came from Psalm 56. Here are some excerpts:
Be gracious to me, O God, for people trample on me;
all day long foes oppress me;
my enemies trample on me all day long,
for many fight against me.
O Most High, when I am afraid,
I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I am not afraid;
what can flesh do to me?
This I know, that God is for me.
In God, whose word I praise,
in the Lord, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I am not afraid.
What can a mere mortal do to me?
(Psalm 56: 1-4, 9-11).
And here is my journal except in response:
Jesus, I pray for protection for Brian and me. Thank you for the reading from Psalm 56 today, reassuring us that mortals can do nothing to us if you are on our side (also the theme of [the sermon at church] yesterday). I must admit a little fear at seeing those (state sponsored) protests yesterday...it was scary to see some of the xenophobia (September 17, 2012).
God reassured us multiple times, through Sunday's sermon and the Bible reading on Monday, of our divine protection. That protection is there for any of us if we simply ask for it. As our time in China unfolded, Brian and I developed the daily habit of praying a prayer of protection every morning. If it was good enough for the Psalmist and good enough for St. Patrick, then it was good enough for us. It's a habit we continue to keep, and it has served us well.
*We later learned that deadly stampedes occur frequently in China. A few years later in Shanghai, on December 31, 2014, 36 people died in a deadly crush trying to celebrate New Year's Eve on the Bund, Shanghai's iconic riverside promenade. The exact cause remains unclear, yet I now understand after the 2012 protests just how easily any panic could quickly escalate into injury and even death.