This issue also has great inside shots of a BYD car factory floor.

Read the English version here and the Chinese version here.

Read the 2009 version and 2008 version.

I have yet to see a copy of the set, as I am based in China while the books are hitting North American library shelves. If anyone runs across the set, could you take photos of my entries and mail them to me?

I wrote the first entry, on modern Chinese sexuality and gender, with the head librarian at the Kinsey Institute, Liana Zhou. This opportunity presented itself during a visit to the Kinsey Institute and a meeting with Dr. Zhou. She suggested I contribute to the modern Chinese section because of my longstanding interest with HIV/AIDS prevention and gay life in China. I also wrote the pre-modern Chinese sex and gender entry (pre-1911), which I describe as “5,000 years in 4,000 words”. Finally, I wrote an entry on the famous republic-era sexologist Zhang Jingsheng.

The encyclopedia set is cited as: Malti-Douglas, Fedwa, ed. Encyclopedia of Sex and Gender. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007.

Here’s the blurb from the Thomson Gale website:

Gender studies have become a major academic field in the past 25 years, providing a lens through which to reexamine and reevaluate knowledge in every area of human interaction and activity. The Encyclopedia of Sex and Gender encompasses the various concepts of sex and gender that have arisen from the critical study of those subjects worldwide, as well as the emerging reimagination of the more traditional humanities and social sciences. Broad theoretical essays address issues of sex and gender at the personal and the social level; others examine issues of identity, status, class, ethnicity, race, and nation; of sexuality and the body; of social institutions and the structures of representation – all through the lens of gender. With a truly global perspective, topics of individual entries include changing conceptions of “the feminine,” the family and masculinity, religion, morality, cultural images, medical practice, public health, economy and society and many more. In addition, the work discusses the influences of gender studies on various academic disciplines, examining how it has transformed and utilized methods and theories that have evolved.

I didn’t expect to sit at the head table, but that’s what happens when you’re the first foreigner of non-Chinese descent to set foot in a Chinese village. My memories of this “Roots & Shoots wish School” groundbreaking would have been clearer had I not been asked to say a few unprepared words to the 200-plus students and their relatives as the “blond haired, blue eyed” American. I told the group that, as a volunteer with the Jane Goodall Institute, I was honored and excited to learn more about life in rural Anhui.

We were there as visitors, teachers, and—though none of us seemed aware of it at the time—part of the new grassroots of Chinese civil society. We were not there for our own re-education, but that’s what happened, at least to me.

Unlike much of the more developed world, most Chinese city dwellers consider a trip to the countryside less like a Sunday drive and more like an excursion to another country. There are wide divisions of knowledge, experience, and means between big city folks and villagers.

In some ways, Yangshan Village seemed like stepping back in time. There was almost no trash on the ground, almost all of our food was natural and huge forest insects tried to make friends with us. Roots & Shoots staff prepared well. We brought cooks, doctors, and a carefully recruited team of volunteer teachers. Our group of thirty camped in sleeping bags on the floor of one classroom. We made a showering room by taping together straw mats and refrigerator boxes.

One morning in pouring rain on muddy mountain trails, we trekked to a Ming Dynasty house with a family of four generations. Chairman Mao and the God of Wisdom shared wall space next to their harvest calendar. The farming peasant family had a booming coffin-making side business.

All six families we visited on our eight hours of hiking that day have electricity. Many have stereos and small appliances. No one goes hungry. Yet everyone seemed old or infirmed, even on a day when no one was working in the fields.

I got back to the school to find our volunteer doctors finishing up physical exams and eye checks. I stepped into one of the dirt floor classrooms to watch the last five minutes of a messy, hands-on art lesson. The other room was full of grins as children learned about dinosaurs.

No young people except us youth

We spent our evenings searching in vain for mobile phone signals, singing songs, showering, cooking, cleaning, or feeding the maggots in the outhouses.

There was a simple explanation for our lack of interaction with the locals. There are no young people in Yangshan Village; not one over 14. County leaders told us that over 60 percent of the overall population is laboring elsewhere. By the age of 20, most have already been mailing money back to the village for many years.

Then, even more astonishing to me was the realization that, in our group, at 26 years, I was one of the oldest.

There is a freedom gap between those who live in the city and those from the less developed areas. Chinese in cities are growing up empowered; more and more realize they have developed the resources to fulfill their dreams. Villagers, more than their city counterparts, are still playing catch-up.

Being rich is glorious; being fulfilled is harder

While the young people from China‘s countryside migrate from one dangerous, undesirable job to another, villagers in Yangshan watched TV in their dirt-floored huts receiving signal from homemade tin-can satellite dishes.

That glitzy fake life has appeal. No wonder the villagers complained to me about their simple lives and how lucky city people are. In some ways, they have reason to be jealous. Their children’s education is half as good as a city kid’s—if they’re lucky.

Villagers do not understand urban discontent. They were not privy to my conversations in that big classroom where we volunteers slept. They did not hear tear-filled confessions from Shanghainese volunteers in which they confided their darkest fears. Villagers did not hear recent college graduates tell me they don’t know who they. Villagers have never experienced the hollow feeling of materialistic consumption where enough stuff and enough success is never enough.

Meanwhile, villagers welcome rising incomes, but do little to offset the familiar effects of economic development. The increasing number of consumer goods—batteries, food wrappers, cleaning supplies—means trash and pollutants are slowly accumulating in the otherwise pristine river valley. Farmers are getting sick by misusing pesticides.

The glory of the country life

Try as I did, I could not convince many villagers of the uniqueness of their country lives, which I perceive very clearly, having grown up in the comfortable countryside of the United States. They did not believe me when I told them that if I hadn’t been visiting as a volunteer, I would have paid to stay in their homes, or that more than a few rich Chinese urbanites would pay for their children to have their own, shall we say, revolutionary experiences.

The family in the Qing Dynasty house is demolishing their ancestral home to build a modern box. Ice cream wrappers speckle the river valley. The county plans to pave the only road into the village next year. Development continues.

Soon these students will have a new school given to them by a benefactor who hopes to give them the educational resources they need to reach their full potential. They will be able to communicate more with the outside world with net connectivity and computers. They will be exposed to new ideas and new peoples.

But will these young people grow up valuing what they already have–or keep waiting for a better life? Only through understanding choices between pursuing created wants and being satisfied with what one needs will China build the harmonious, egalitarian society it aims to have by 2020.

The cities are aswarm with volunteers. There’s hope in the air. I just hope the teachers in China‘s new “to the hills” movement are able to learn from their students. The material life isn’t a destination, but a stone in the path to a harmonious society.

now in her seventies, renowned primatologist Jane Goodall is fighting harder than ever for a better future

British primatologist Dr. Jane Goodall first won fame in the 1960s with her pioneering studies of chimpanzees in Gombe National Park in Tanzania. Since then she’s worked tirelessly to promote rights for all animals, chimpanzees included. In 1991, while conferring with students in Tanzania about their hopes for extracurricular programs, she founded Roots & Shoots (R&S), a youth education group that provides students with the experience to tackle problems concerning the relationship between people, animals, and the environment. In the intervening 16 years, R&S has spread to over 90 countries. China has four branches, in Beijing, Chengdu, Nanchang, and Shanghai, and there are R&S clubs in hundreds of local schools. Greg MacIsaac founded the first Chinese branch in Beijing in 1993. In 2003, the Shanghai branch became the first foreign non-profit organization to be granted official status by the Chinese government [see Terms of Development, Sept 2006], followed by the branch in Nanchang this year. Goodall will be in Beijing and Shanghai this month.

that’s: You first visited China about 13 years ago. Since then, what changes have you observed?

JG: Well, I’ve definitely seen changes in children’s attitudes towards animals; for example, they have a better understanding of dogs, and are even more concerned about birds kept in little cages.

When I first came, China was much more closed than it is today. It was less Western. There weren’t any McDonald’s; there weren’t any Starbucks. It was a very different feeling; you really felt like you were going somewhere different. But, of course, it was already very polluted, even though there were probably a quarter the number of cars. There were lots of bicycles.

that’s: Are you optimistic that China’s environmental problems can be solved?

JG: I think the main hope lies with the people. First of all, I have met so many people who really care. I’ve met so many government officials who are desperately worried about the degradation of the environment. I think it’s just very difficult. There’s a tremendous conflict between the environment and economic development, and I think it’s spun way out of control. This happens in many countries as they develop, but unfortunately for China, it’s just so huge. The problem is huge.

that’s: Is the choice between economic development and sustainable development a false one?

JG: Yes, it should never be a choice. It’s not a case of either/or. It has to be hand-in-hand. If you have economic development outstripping the environment at the cost of the environment, then you’re destroying the future for everyone.

that’s: If you had had the chance to study wild animals in China instead of Africa, would you have taken it?

JG: Well, probably I would have been attracted, like so many people, to giant pandas. Or I might have gone and studied golden, or snub-nosed monkeys in the high mountain forests.

that’s: You received your doctorate without getting a Bachelors degree. Which is more important: hands-on studies or formal education?

JG: I did my whole one and a half year [of chimp] studies without a degree of any sort. I think hands-on education is really, really important, especially for children. At schools, if they learn by doing, it’s gonna stick. That’s why I think Roots & Shoots is so important. That’s why I’m so delighted at how fast [the organization] is growing.

that’s: Is the Chinese attitude toward hands-on education changing?

JG: I think there’s much more willingness to involve the children in this open way of learning. Many universities have set up Roots & Shoots programs; they’re doing a fabulous job, really making it work.

that’s: What do you say to a city dweller who thinks he can’t make a difference?

JG: There isn’t an overall statement that you can make because each person responds slightly differently. You really have to treat people as individuals. But basically it’s not too difficult for people to understand that individual action, when multiplied by several million people, can make a change.

that’s: I want to talk a little about Africa and how the locals in Gombe [National Park in Tanzania], and elsewhere, receive your work. Has it significantly changed their way of thinking?

JG: Tanzania is not a part of Africa where chimps have been hunted; they have been rather respected. I think the local people, the villagers, have always been fascinated by what I do, and they have learnt a great deal more [about how] chimpanzees attract people to Tanzania. They understand that it’s good for them, their local economy. So they are a little more sophisticated. They welcome us being there because, in addition to studying chimpanzees, we have a program which improves the lives of villagers around Gombe.

that’s: You were chosen by Kofi Annan to be the United Nations Messenger of Peace.

JG: It’s an interesting concept: that we’ll never have total peace on this planet unless we can learn to live in harmony with the natural world. We will never learn to have harmony in the natural world until we alleviate the crippling poverty that people live under, until we manage to stabilize population growth, and stop fighting. You don’t stop fighting until you alleviate poverty and have a more manageable number of our species on the planet. It all ties in together.

that’s: How do you feel about your image being used in pop culture, like being parodied on The Simpsons cartoon, or featured in a theme ride at Disney World?

JG: Anything that gets the message out [is fine with me], anything which will get the message to people who would never come and hear my lectures, who wouldn’t read my books. You can’t imagine the number of people who have talked to me about [my character on The Simpsons]. It’s a way of getting into sections of society that I would otherwise never reach, which I think is so important.

that’s: Your name in Chinese is translated as “Zhen Gu Dao Er” or ‘珍古道尔’. ‘Zhen’ means ‘treasure’, and ‘Gu dao’ means ‘ancient truth’ or ‘ancient principle’. Does that relate to what some spiritual leaders have told you, that you have an ‘old soul’?

JG: We don’t even know that we have a soul. You can’t prove it, but I believe there is a spark of the divine in every living thing, not just people. We, with our passions and meaning and labeling things, we have called that spark of spirit a ‘soul’. I think that when people say that you have an ‘old soul’, it means you sort of understand certain native truths about how we ought to live on the planet, about the relationship we should have with nature and with each other. I think it brings perhaps a certain peace. I think somehow, if you have that aura of truth, people listen. If I have an old soul, then it’s been very helpful to me in the mission that I’ve been entrusted with.

that’s: Recently, when I was talking to a guy in a train station about how we all have choices to make and we all can make an impact. He said, ‘Well, every time you fly, it has a big environmental impact … .’

JG: Well, that’s absolutely true. If I stopped flying … I don’t know, the demand for me to go to places like Peru and India and Australia and New Zealand is so great. The impact of those visits is huge. [Those visits] have results in a big leap forward for R&S and lots of young people developing environmental responsibility. So I have to believe that the environmental impact of my visits is more than balanced [by the damage done by flying]. Roots & Shoots groups have planted millions of trees.

that’s: How many R&S groups are there world-wide?

JG: Around 8,500.

that’s: And how many volunteers?

JG: We have a brand new website that is going to make it possible to track [the numbers] and get a better idea [of the numbers]. At our schools the numbers range anywhere from two students to the entire [student body]. We reckon that on average, each group has 30 or 40 volunteers.

that’s: How do you stay grounded when you travel so much?

JG: I don’t know. I suppose it has something to do with that ‘old soul’. [I have a sense] of peace, and that’s the peace of the forest that I can carry within; it’s there inside me. I think I’m using my time in a productive way – a mixture of writing, of talking to children, and talking to policy makers, corporations and so forth. Because bodies age, there will come a time when I can’t rush around like this, 320 some days of the year. Or we won’t be flying because of terrorism. As it is, I shall carry on doing this kind of thing for as long as I can, or feel it sensible.

by Joshua Wickerham for that’s Shanghai, September 2006

Last year, Shanghai-born Ying Huang (known to Chinese fans as Huang Ying) performed the soprano solo in the Chinese mainland premiere of Felix Mendelssohn’s Elijah. In many ways, it was a landmark event in the history of Chinese exposure to Western music. Maestro John Nelson, conductor of L’ Ensemble Orchestral de Paris, led four soloists–Ying Huang, Warren Mok, Tian Haojiang and Liang Ning–and three choirs, in a performance that can only be described as deeply spiritual.

Though a large part of the audience was unfamiliar with choral music, the spirit of the sacred works did not require translation. Indeed, the experience was described by one member of the audience as “moving” another said she was “transported.” This year organizers from the Committee of 100 Cultural Institute hope to build on that success with Messiah, featuring Huang, and counter-tenor Larry Zazzo (the first counter-tenor to perform in China, and one that organizer Shirley Young says should be “a real treat”). The appearance of Zazzo and Huang will follow their debut this year at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York.

We spoke with Huang Ying in Rome, where she has been brushing up on her Italian after touring Japan, Germany, Canada and the US. She seemed intoxicated with the Italian spirit, rolling her Rs with great aplomb.

that’s: It seems you find Rome very agreeable.

Ying Huang: Very hot, wonderful. I’m learning Italian here, actually taking classes. For my work I need to understand the culture, not just the language. How’s Shanghai?

that’s: It’s hot here, too. And wonderful. Let’s talk about performing Elijah in Shanghai last year.

YH: Did you see it? Did you like the performance?

that’s: It was an amazing performance of spiritual music. I think it was a life changing event for many in the audience who had never heard or seen Western choral music performed live. What did it mean for you to bring such a famous work to your hometown for the first time?

YH: I accepted the engagement for a number of reasons. First, I was very happy to sing in Shanghai, my home. I always want to do more things for my country, for Chinese audiences. I was also excited to work with Maestro John Nelson, not only because he’s very famous, but because he’s an expert in this early music, especially choral music. It was a very precious opportunity; he is wonderful in every way, his musicianship, his humanity. Also, Elijah was a significant event in China. It lifted our culture and brought with it a higher standard for music interpretation.

that’s: Nelson has said that composers like Bach, Mozart, Handel and others put their souls into their choral works and operas. How does it feel to sing music that meant so much to these great composers?

YH: I have been studying more of the early music, like Handel and Mozart. I like the style of this music and want to perform it with authenticity. The four operas that suit me best are The Marriage of Figaro, The Magic Flute, Don Giovanni, and Cosi Fan Tutte. In the West, for the last ten years, I’ve sung these operas very often. I am trying to push the characteristics not only of the language and music, but of philosophy and culture as well. I like concentrating on Handel. His works fit my personality and spirituality. I’m happy to bring this music back to the Shanghai Opera House.

that’s: Have you sung any of these four operas in China?

YH: No, we’ve never really pinned down the dates. The good thing is that I am going to sing again in China very soon and hopefully do it more and more. Meanwhile, another good thing is that this year is the 250th anniversary of the birth of Mozart, so everyone is talking about him and listening to his music.

that’s: Are you excited about your debut at the Met?

YH: Before I arrived in Rome, I was in Japan for three weeks performing Don Giovanni, and working with some of the most famous singers from the Met. We were also practising The Magic Flute, both the English and German versions; the English version will debut in a new production at the Met, where I’ll perform this New Year’s Eve. Wish me luck.

that’s: Good luck. What other projects are you working on?

YH: Most of my time this year and next will involve projects at the Met. We’ll also be working on the First Emperor by Tan Dun. I’m involved in a workshop to help develop the character I cover in the opera. It will premiere at the Met. I was invited to be the cover because they already cast the most famous Western singers, like Placido Domingo. I’m covering the part of Princess Yue-Yang and have been involved with the project since May. It seems like a Chinese year for opera. This opera will be touring around the world. The most important thing as a Chinese musician, is that I’m very proud to be in this process of the creation of this opera.

that’s: As an Asian, do people question your authenticity as an opera singer?

YH: Any kind of art is international, no matter what your native language or nationality. I don’t have any problems. I have gotten lots of praise from the Italian people, saying I sing very well. I’m very fortunate with language. I’m not being modest. Now I’m trying to learn and perfect my knowledge of Italian. I do very well as Suzana in The Marriage of Figaro. That role is the longest soprano role in the opera. I did very well in 2002 in New York. My agent from America says Italians have told him I have a perfect grasp on the language.

that’s: How long will you be studying in Italy?

YH: Until the end of August, then I’m coming to Shanghai to prepare for Messiah. I’m at the Leonardo da Vinci School in Rome. I’m here not only for the language, but also to throw myself into the culture, to learn the mentality, and [about] Italian cuisine; the food is the most basic thing, right?

that’s: At what age did you know you wanted to sing Western opera instead of Chinese?

YH: Western style opera singing is not easy, especially in China. It’s prestigious. It’s an art form. There’s still a lot of work to do to introduce classical music to Chinese audiences. I went through a difficult period in my life with a very good teacher, who recognized my talent and brought me into my field. I feel like I have a mission, a mission to do East/West cultural exchange. I have had help from a lot of people, like Shirley Young, who organized Elijah and is organizing this year’s Singing for the Future events.

that’s: Chinese knowledge of Western choral music is limited due to lack of exposure. During the intermission at last year’s performance of Elijah, I asked Shanghainese writer and music critic Zhao Lihong about his impressions of the performance. He said it was very profound and that he hoped for more world-class performances and cultural exchanges like this. What do you say to a Chinese person who isn’t familiar with Western choral and opera music?

YH: The most important thing is that, in China, we should have more educational programs of every kind, including opera.

that’s: Shanghai Opera House director Zhang Guoyong told me that Nelson’s presence last year had three important points: It improved the sound of the orchestra; it made the voices of Chinese and New York choirs sound like one, and it created a new, more receptive atmosphere. What else needs to be done?

YH: At the Shanghai Music Conservatory where I went to school, they need to train more people as young professional singers. They need to teach more languages, different languages, not just English. They should teach Italian, German, and French. I did a master class in March and I told the students: “You have to take your time if you really want to be a refined Western opera singer. You must be patient; you must learn subjects not taught in school in China. You have to learn about Western culture and history in order to introduce this to Chinese audiences”. Since I graduated in 1992, I’ve been very lucky to be able to travel all over the world. Few get to do this. We need to try to encourage people to study more.

that’s: Do students need a religious or spiritual background to understand this music?

YH: I think we all learn about ourselves through music. I am quite a spiritual person and I do not have a specific religion. Being Chinese, growing up we were influenced by Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism. I don’t have a specific religion, but I do believe there is a God. I’m looking for a spiritual way to balance my life. It’s a crazy world, especially when you’re always traveling. Western people, more and more, are trying to find a spiritual path to enhance, to re-educate, to balance themselves.

that’s: And how has music influenced you on that spiritual path?

YH: It’s been my savior. I’m lucky music is my work, my profession. Every time I interpret a work, I’m in a higher state of mind. I enjoy giving to the people, and trying to enlighten them. That’s our mission as artists. I think people go to the theater to escape and forget the negative aspects of life. I keep that in mind and always try to give my best.

that’s: Speaking of profundity and spirit in music, how was it working with Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters?

YH: Though I’m an opera singer, I like to experience modern music. I was lucky to get involved in his opera project Ça Ira. I learned a lot of things from him. I think he’s very creative, and very different from [the musicians] in classical music circles. It was a big project, and the first performance in Rome was spectacular. The form of his concerts was different from what I’m used to. There was a big screen on stage, a sound system — it was all very new [to me]. That’s what we need. New opportunities. New blood, new ideas. Culturally, opera needs new visions.

For those interested in Shanghai’s grassroots organizations, this year’s publication of the city’s first NGO Yearbook, a comprehensive directory of Shanghai-based Non-Governmental Organizations, is a fascinating read. Nearly 800-pages long, it lists thousands of civil-minded groups, and gives the impression, at least to the casual reader, that such organizations are thriving; indeed, that they are multiplying faster than cicadas in summer.

It is certainly true that the city boasts more NGOs than ever before, although the number depends on how the term is defined. All but a few dozen listings are quasi-governmental entities, known as “Government organized NGOs”, or GONGOs.

GoNGO is a term unique to China, though one that fails to indicate the highly-complicated regulatory environment that governs development work and non-profit organizations in Shanghai. According to John Kielty, placement coordinator for the Queens University-Fudan University course on Social Development, already in its second year this fall, “An organization’s official status is always an issue. It is key to have clear communication and a mutually understood set of goals [when dealing with the government]. Motives and goals,” he stresses, “aren’t always the same.”

That both parties see eye to eye is increasingly important in light of society’s more generous attitude towards charity. Donations, particularly from China’s nouveau riche, have been growing as fast as the economy, and consequently, those groups seeking to attract funds must legitimize their standing.

Dan Guttman, a visiting American Fulbright professor who taught Shanghai Jiao Tong University’s first class on NGOs, says that government plays a necessary role in a harmonious society, but that its means are limited. “I discovered that Americans and Chinese are using the same vernacular–words like rule of law, privatization, and civil society,” he says.

NGOs are often more effective in providing aid than under-funded government agencies, particularly in areas where commercial enterprises have little interest or expertise. Put another way, NGOs can address touchy subjects such as minority education, the environment, sexuality, disabilities, anti-discrimination, and HIV/AIDS prevention and treatment at a grassroots level, and therefore with greater efficiency and at less cost.

That said, for a number of reasons these organizations have great difficulty obtaining permanent legal status in China. Take the Rotary Club, for example, one of the oldest NGOs in China. This international service and professional group holds weekly meetings, funds scholarships, and gives time and money for projects like building potable water systems in remote villages.

The Shanghai branch held its first meeting 87 years ago, but only received “provisional” status this year. Why now? Perhaps because of their improved relations with one of the city’s largest GoNGOs, the Shanghai Charity Foundation, with which the Rotary Club partnered in a fundraising event for HIV/AIDS this summer.

While partnership with local organizations may be one path to legitimacy, the main criterion is absolute neutrality. As Rotary Club member Frank Yih, says, “We have two ground rules: no religion and no politics.” He says it jokingly, but it’s true.

Yih is president of Hua Qiao, an umbrella organization he founded along with several Rotarians. Hua Qiao has chosen to register for legal non-profit status in the United States. The name means “China bridge”, and is homophonous with “overseas Chinese”. It is no surprise then that all its members fit both descriptions. The group’s main activities include providing medical care, tuition payments, and dwellings for AIDS orphans. It also sends wheelchairs to North Korea, while its Alliance for Smiles program arranges cleft lip surgery. Another affiliated group, Gift of Life, helps patients with congenital heart disease. William Chiang, Hua Qiao‘s executive director finds the work rewarding, in itself, and in the sense of learning more about China.

A sentiment with which John Kielty agrees. In addition to his academic role, he is president of Roteract, a young Rotarian group, and has organized sports activities for migrant, and intellectually-challenged, children. He hopes these events have helped educate the public about the challenges and potential of the intellectually disabled community, and promote interest in the Special Olympics, to be held in Shanghai next year. In addition, like Chiang, Kielty says he has benefited from, and hopes to tighten, cooperative relations with the Shanghai Charity Foundation.

Of course, some people remain suspicious of the role of NGOs in Chinese society. Says Yih of Rotary Club activities, “Many people are cynical about what we do, but we are a service organization.” For the Rotary Club, an organization that has never professed politic or religious affiliations, maintaining its presence in China is relatively easy, but for others–the Young Man’s Christian Association for instance–even its name requires explanation. Missionary groups, which are barred from China, are considered by many Chinese to be the historical genesis of modern-day aid organizations. But today’s groups don’t necessarily package faith with service. Even many charities that started as faith-based entities offer aid without religious strings attached.

Shi Jian, a program coordinator at the YMCA, says the most important difference between the Shanghai branch and those in other parts of the world, is that Jesus plays no role in their activities. “We’re interested in public welfare,” she says of the Shanghai branch, founded in 1900. “OK, we do have a Christmas party every year, but that’s it.” Still, the group does organize fundraisers and educational activities with many of the city’s Protestant church groups.

Roots & Shoots (R&S), a part of the Jane Goodall Institute Shanghai, recently became the first foreign NGO registered by the Chinese government. Yet Zhong Zhenxi, R&S’s coordinator, says the term NGO is not quite accurate, a better designation is she tuan which roughly translates as “civil group”.

So what does this civil group do? One of its most successful programs, Dragon Recycling, is a partnership with computer giant Hewlett Packard, local schools and government offices. Dragon Recycling aims to recover and recycle used printer ink cartridges. Interestingly, socially responsible programs such as this blur the line between public and private interests. But its overall aim is simply to serve the public good, whatever the organizational structure. Trouble is, serving the public good has its limits; current regulations specify that each sector–be it the environment or sports–must be served by just one non-profit NGO, government-linked or otherwise. For organizations that make a profit, however, there is no limit on their number.

Earlier this year, Shanghai lawyer Zhou Dan founded Yu Dan, an NGO masquerading as a “for profit” organization. Yu Dan is devoted to upholding the rights of lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and transgender (LGBT) people. Says Zhou, “Since Shanghai already has three groups devoted to the LGBT community, we formed a ‘for profit’ corporation. Of course, there’s no law that says a for-profit has to, in fact, turn a profit.”

Indeed, the law seems designed to provide for exceptions. R&S, a group devoted to people, animals, and the environment, is in a sense both a non-profit, and a “for profit” entity, with unique bookkeeping issues. R&S, which relies largely on sponsorship from international corporations, has its “profits” taxed. “If we have a balance in our account at the end of the year, we have to pay 25 per cent to the government,” says Zhong. “It feels like we’re basically writing the tax code as we go along.”

But DKT International, a Washington-based group, is one non profit that actually does turn a profit. This group has been praised for the way it merges the marketing techniques of the private sector with the social consciousness of an aid organization.

As one of the largest distributors of condoms in China, DKT’s ingenious form of “social marketing” brings greater public awareness of safer sex through marketing its own brand of condoms. The organization then funnels profits from retail condom sales into condom distribution. Jimmie Cai, chief representative of the China office in Shanghai, says that being financially independent is the company’s first aim, second only to helping those persons at risk of sexually transmitted diseases.

Lastly, there exist certain groups that seem to get by just fine without official legal status. For long-established organizations like the World Wildlife Federation (WWF), their provisional status does not keep them from participating in massive conservation efforts. The WWF’s China partnership began in 1979 with a unique agreement between China’s home-grown conservation organizations and the WWF’s international network. Its first effort focused on panda conservation, and such was its success, that the panda became the WWF’s mascot.

Since then, thousands of Chinese environmental groups have been formed. And as the government attempts to steer the economy away from breakneck growth to sustainable development, these groups, and others like them, will surely have a bigger role to play. In large part, their ability to function and thereby benefit society as a whole is yet to be determined. What is certain is that 2007′s NGO Yearbook will be a weightier volume still.

With his turn-of-the-century Russian-style goatee, vest and patent leather shoes, Yin Zhusheng (尹铸胜）personifies the Method Actor. He wasn’t on stage when we met, but he was certainly in character. Chomping down on his pipe, he offered us a look of intense sincerity before explaining his acting philosophy. “For a few months, when your life is the play, you don’t have to worry about anything else.”

Not that this young Xi’an-born actor has much to worry about. Indeed, he’s directed and had leads in dozens of outstanding productions, including Twelfth Night and Tokyo Moon, and is one of Shanghai’s rising theatrical talents. At first glance, Yin’s physical appearance is hardly striking; he’s not tall, has a slight frame, and his features are rather too sharp. However, the man has presence. His deep, expressive voice and penetrating eyes reveal an uncommon understanding of human character.

His current production, Love Letters (情书), playing at the Shanghai Dramatic Art Center, is a Chinese adaptation of I Take Your Heart in Mine, an American play based on a collection of letters exchanged by Anton Chekhov and a famous young actress, Olga Knipper, who later became his wife. To get into character, he rented a single room and pasted it with what Chekhov had on his walls before his death.

It’s a one man show, which Yin carries with consummate ease. Indeed, his love of acting is readily apparent. “In movies,” he said, “there are places where you don’t have to act. For instance, when the director cuts to rain, it helps you understand the character, but on stage, you have to consider everything.”

One thing Yin doesn’t consider too important is money, or acting in more movies. He prefers the theater. “In acting circles, there are lots of people who want to make a lot of money. [But] you shouldn’t focus solely on money; you should also have your own professional goals.”

Yin’s goals are clear: to broaden his range of experience, and enter more fully into the characters he portrays. With his wonderfully convincing role as Chekhov, Yin has already entered the Russian soul. For the audience, more experiences of this nature are eagerly anticipated.

[note: this is an article published in the February 2006 issue of that's Shanghai]

Not long ago, I accompanied some of the volunteers who pay weekly visits to the city’s gay venues to distribute safe sex material. Our party included a gay policeman from Harbin and our guide, Wang Yutian, an outreach coordinator with the Hong Kong-based Chi Heng Foundation. On the way to the city’s only traditional gay dance hall, Wang spoke with the cab driver about homosexuals, or tongzhimen (comrades), as they are commonly referred to on the Chinese mainland.

“Do you know any gay men?”

“No.”

“We’re gay. Does that bother you?”

“I don’t really care.”

“Are you disgusted by the thought of two men having sex?”

“If I were disgusted by gay sex, I’d have to be disgusted by straight sex too.”

“Do you think it’s right for a gay man to marry a woman just to make his parents happy?”

“Probably not.”

For Wang, this sort of exchange is common. He often conducts informal surveys in an effort to gauge the public’s attitude toward gays. And, he hopes, teach them something in the process.

Wang’s organization is just one of many such groups in China that liaise with the international community, the Chinese government, various health organizations, and, of course, China’s gay population. Given that many people still harbor stereotypes and prejudice towards the gay community, Wang’s work, and that of others like him, is key to reaching a new understanding of and tolerance for gay issues. That said, his efforts are not always welcome.

As our cab pulls up to the club, our fellow passenger, the policeman, looks decidedly uneasy. Terrified, in fact. Nevertheless, he pulls himself together and turns to Wang as we approach the door.

“Could you please not do that again?”

“What?”

“You know what you did.”

Once inside, he takes a seat, still looking very uncomfortable. He refuses to talk to anyone and stares at the floor. Though he’s thousands of kilometers from home and virtually anonymous, he still appears frightened that someone will discover him at a club catering to homosexuals. Indeed, the very sight of several hundred gay men seems to petrify him.

His fear is not unfounded. Before leaving Chi Heng’s office, he spoke of the pressure he faces because of his sexual preference.

“I’m 25 right now. If I don’t get married by the time I’m thirty, I’m out of a job. Everyone on the force is married. It’s an unwritten rule, but that doesn’t make it any less powerful. Either I get married or I find a new job.”

The policeman’s concerns are far from unique. Dr. Tong Chuanliang, outgoing director of Shanghai Sexual Minorities Homoheart, a hotline operated by the China Welfare Institute, says that about ten per cent of callers ask about marriage. However, a further twelve per cent ask how they can “cure” their homosexuality. “We tell people it can’t be done,” says Tong. “Studies prove this. When considering marriage, we tell callers to be very careful.”

Which is not to imply that most callers are marriage obsessed. Indeed, a large number, 25 per cent, are simply seeking a sympathetic voice. “Callers often assumed until they came across our number that there was no one like them,” says Crystal Chin, former secretary-general at Homoheart, who recently left the organization after a management reshuffle.

Most gays in China are still reluctant to reveal their sexual preference to anyone but their closest friends. Fewer still tell their family or colleagues, and almost none has the courage to speak out against discrimination. After all, it was only in 2001 that the Chinese Psychiatric Association removed homosexuality from its list of mental illnesses. And until 1997, the Nationalist-era Anti-Hooliganism statute–stating that homosexuality was a crime subject to arrest–was still in force.

Hence the need for groups like Chi Heng, which has set up a program to educate the police about gay-specific crimes, such as discrimination and blackmail. Steven Gu, director of outreach for MSM (Men who have Sex with Men) at Chi Heng, hopes that once the program is completed later this year, gays will be able to access a group of gay-friendly police officers with whom they can consult about law enforcement issues.

Zhou Dan, a Shanghainese lawyer and self-described “activist scholar,” says there are still many legal challenges for gays in China. What’s more, he says most people overstate the significance of revoking the hooliganism law. Unlike the US Supreme Court case in 2003 that struck down Texas sodomy laws as unconstitutional, Zhou says Chinese lawmakers “never intentionally decriminalized homosexuality.”

In 2004, Zhou lectured graduate students on “Homosexuality and the Law” at Fudan University’s medical school. The course was part of “Homosexuality and Health”, the first course ever offered at a Chinese University on this sensitive topic. Initially, just one student enrolled, though more than one hundred visitors attended most classes.

Unlike their Western counterparts, Chinese gays keep a low profile, and as such, are far less confrontational. If they venture out of the closet at all, it is to enter into a dialogue with mainstream society, what Zhou calls a “strategy of engagement”.

“For example, some people have proposed having a gay festival in China,” Zhou says, akin to the Pride festivals common in the West. “From a cultural perspective, that’s great, but from a legal perspective, that carnival could turn into a disaster.” Indeed, last December, Beijing police shut down the country’s first gay and lesbian cultural festival which had attracted more than 400 participants, including students, intellectuals and gay rights activists.

While such gatherings are accepted practice in the West, China’s gay community is still struggling for acceptance. “Some gays and lesbians on the Chinese mainland think I’m a bit too radical,” says Zhou. “I have come out to government officials at international conferences in Shanghai,” he says chuckling. “But by Western standards, I’m just a moderate, conservative even.”

Fudan University associate professor Sun Zhongxing says stopping prejudice against gays will require changes at many levels, including academia, government, and society as a whole. It is her belief that change can only come about through education. In the fall of 2005, she began teaching an undergraduate course titled “Homosexual Research” to a standing room only crowd. She sees nothing unusual in this, even though the lectures have attracted considerable attention from the media. Rather, she views this event as a natural step in China’s development. “I can’t see what the big deal is,” she says. “This just shows the interest in and importance of gay studies in China.”

Sun’s course, which is co-organized by the Chi Heng Foundation, covers a range of subjects, including gay and lesbian sex, “money boys”, marriage and one of the most pressing issues in the gay community, AIDS prevention. According to government and academic sources, the current HIV infection rate among China’s under-forty urban gay population male is between one and three per cent. For MSMs forty or older, the rate jumps to twelve per cent, more according to some sources. A study produced by the Chinese Centers for Disease Control in 2004, states that 80 per cent of Chinese MSMs are “totally ignorant” about the risk of contracting HIV.

This is one reason why education is crucial. “We don’t know if less (formally) educated people are more at risk for HIV,” says Steven Gu, “so we try to educate everybody.”

This outreach work includes setting up hotlines, offering legal and psychological counseling and distributing free condoms at various gay venues. At the latter, Chi Heng’s volunteers often stage popular mini-dramas, where a member of the crowd is asked to fit a condom on a phallic device. Whoever places the condom on correctly, wins a free tube of sexual lubricant. Losers get a lesson on how to keep themselves safe.

Beijing is getting in on the fun, too. In the fall of 2005, the central government bought 300 million condoms for distribution in hospitals, and in clubs and bars–indeed, anywhere people might think of having sex. The Shanghai CDC has plans too. “Last year we organized a few hundred volunteers to target xiaojie, (prostitutes),” says Zhuang Minghua, Deputy Director of AIDS and STDs at the Shanghai Center for Disease Prevention and Control (CDC). “This year,” he adds, “we’ll target the MSM population.”

However, Professor Gu Xueqi of the Shanghai Health Center, whose pioneering survey of the gay Shanghainese community in the early nineties spurred considerable interest, is skeptical. “They’ve been saying they’ll target homosexuals ‘next year’ for the past five years.”

Qingdao University’s Professor Zhang Beichuan, along with most sociologists, estimate that the gay population on the Chinese mainland numbers about 30 million. The question is: how long will they be relegated to the shadows? Aside from a few gay-themed bars and clubs, bath houses, saunas and cruising parks, the gay community is all but invisible.

True, the Chi Heng Foundation organized a small group of volunteers to participate in Shanghai’s International Marathon in December, and Homoheart has hosted small group discussions. But not in the public eye. In fact, the city has no gay professional organizations and no businesses that cater specifically to the gay population.

Nevertheless, Professor Sun is optimistic. Speaking on the topic of gay visibility she said: “What has taken Western countries forty years to accomplish, I think China can do in ten.”