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"Good Relations" Saved Me from Imprisonment in China

A Close Call with a Chinese Work Visa - Never to Be Repeated

John Melendez
PROLOGUE

This is a story about how powerful relations in China can help or harm. For a brief primer on the meaning of relations in Chinese culture, click here.

ARRIVING IN A WONDERFUL PLACE: CHINA

For three years in the mid-1990's I worked and lived in Shanghai, China. I had been hired as Regional Manger for a Danish cargo service that was partnered with the Beijing City Planning Commission. This enterprise had offices in Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Shekou and Hong Kong. I led this company's Shanghai office sales for about 1½ years, with a business territory spanning the entirety of China's central and eastern regions.

During my short time in China, I had a unique opportunity to witness business, life, culture and China's perception of herself first-hand.

OFFICIALLY YOU'RE JUST A VISITOR - YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS

Sorting things out for your work visa with Chinese customs is hard enough. To read about this lovely process, click here.

No matter what position you're in when you visit another country, you're just that: a visitor. Don't ever assume you have any special rights.

I had my own harrowing experience to prove this...

VISA TROUBLE - MY FAULT

I was one of two foreigners among an office of about 35 Chinese workers. During the first few months of my employ with the JV, I was looked upon as a necessary but mostly innocuous foreign presence. After acquiring a short-term Chinese work visa stamp in my US passport, I unfortunately got wrapped up with work in the following months. I made the mistake of allowing my visa to lapse.

Back then in China, to allow this to a happen was a serious issue. With tremulous voices my Chinese office colleagues told me that if my problem was not handled well, I would face large fines at the least. And if matters got worse (as things easily can), I might even face accusation as a threat to national security.

My imprisonment was not at all out of the picture.

WHAT TO DO?

I polled my Chinese colleagues for their suggestions on how to handle this. The consensus was to "open relations with" (befriend) an influential Chinese government official who could help smooth a way to a relatively peaceful resolution. My issue was: who would possibly do this for me? I was the manager of a small company. I was a nobody, with no special clout.

I spoke with everybody I knew to no avail. I was beginning to get glum, and visions of prison didn't sit well with me at all. But I got lucky - very lucky.

A Chinese work colleague I had befriended in a previous job heard of my plight and stepped up to assist. Her husband was an officer in the Chinese Public Security Bureau (PSB). He had a colleague who was a friend of the PSB's lead man in charge of Shanghai's foreign expatriate affairs. While this man was not a part of the customs bureau in charge of issuing me a new work visa, this gentleman apparently had strong say in all local governmental affairs.

At the behest of my colleagues, an expensive dinner at a local restaurant was arranged so that everyone could befriend this influential man.

"FRIENDSHIP FOR FREEDOM"

Four days later we all assembled at the restaurant and sat for a really nice dinner that lasted all of three hours. The first crucial two and three-quarters hours of this time was spent by my colleagues getting introduced to and befriending everyone. I was told to sit in on the sidelines and "come when beckoned". During the last fifteen minutes I was ushered into the throng and introduced to the influential gentleman. He was of a short and squat stature, with a round and ruddy face. In those first few tense moments I could see he was scrutinizing me with rock-steady dark brown eyes.

I was being sized up by a soldier of the People's Army, the People's Republic of China.

My life lay in this soldier's hands. His name was Mr. Chang.

Apparently no-one had told him I spoke Chinese, which came to him as a pleasant surprise. After greeting him in my best mandarin, his face brightened up with a genuinely warm smile, "Wah! You can speak Chinese?" We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. Then suddenly, as if by unseen queue, everyone stood up and started saying good-bye to each other. We all left with the understanding that I would meet Mr. Chang again some days later to see how he could help me.

A MEETING WITH "ANGRY MAN"

The following week, my office assistant, Annie, and I took a taxi to Mr. Chang's office (see IMAGE 1). He and I met and spoke (mostly in mandarin, for his English was poor), and he agreed to help me.

He met us a day or so later at the Shanghai Customs Bureau office. I gave him my passport and waited patiently at a front desk to see the outcome.

While I waited I could hear the low tones of Mr. Chang's patient voice begin the conversation. But as time went on, whom I could hear mostly was the other gentleman - and he was clearly unhappy. After half an hour and in spite of Mr. Chang's persistently calm approach, that other man was getting progressively angry. And for good reason.

At that time there were perhaps only 400 westerners living in Shanghai. Unlike me, pretty much all of them obeyed immigration law. There was little to no precedent for my situation. To exacerbate this situation, the customs officer with whom Mr. Chang spoke had dealt directly knew with few to no foreigners before. Furthermore, the customs man's position had become extremely tenuous with the arrival of Mr. Chang as a monkey-wrench thrown into an already obscure picture. Mr. Chang's obviating presence (and higher rank) made him "lose face". Therefore the customs official felt compelled to treat me harshly.

The customs man was outright testy, visibly angry as he emerged from the back offices to have a look at me. Not wishing to confront me directly, the he stood at a distance to eye me suspiciously. His eyes flashed fire as he argued with my new friend, Mr. Chang. In the end, my passport was taken from me, and I was instructed to resume life as I normally did, and not to leave town.

A COMPROMISE

About two weeks later, I was summoned again to the customs office.

Mr. Chang graciously greeted me and my assistant, Annie, there. Together we walked into the customs office to face that difficult man again. As expected he was openly angry. He and Mr. Chang again went off to a back office. When they emerged an hour later the customs man was still angry, but spoke in even tones, almost normally.

A compromise had been reached. If my new friend, Mr. Chang, and his office severely reprimanded me and accepted all legal accountability in my matter, the Customs Bureau would agree to issue me a new work visa stamp, thus allowing me to continue living and working legally in China for six months.

ANGRY MAN REGAINS FACE

Our next stop was Mr. Chang's office at the PSB building in north-central Shanghai. The customs man and Mr. Chang both took separate taxis. When I say "separate taxis", that means Mr. Chang and the customs officer each took separate taxis. That there was no good blood between the two men told me Mr. Chang was going well out of his way to help me.

As an added precaution someone else came to assist: Amy, my Chinese "counterpart" at the office. Amy was a member of extremely good standing with the Chinese Communist Party. Her presence lent a sense of credibility to what I was trying to do.

Despite our precautions, upon our arrival Mr. Angry dropped a bomb.

Angry Customs Man was in an office he had never been to before, and he definitely wasn't in control here. He had already lost face in front of his colleagues on his home turf. So now that he was in foreign territory, it was his time for revenge. He shouted furiously and gesticulated violently. Thank goodness, Mr. Chang kept his cool. He spoke quietly while he leaned comfortably against a worktable counter.

Then the angry man achieved the result he sought: to humiliate Mr. Chang in front of his peers. In a few moments a man of impressive stature in full Army uniform emerged and announced that he was Mr. Chang's superior. He had heard all the noise and had come out to see what the problem was.

Now seeing Mr. Chang's superior was as an even high-ranking officer, the customs man struggled to keep his voice low. But he continued to gesticulate wildly while frequently pointing at me. After a few moments Mr. Chang's boss was able to assuage the wild man's concerns. Being a busy man, he put the affair back into Mr. Chang's hands and left.

THE DREADED "SELF-CRITICISM"

I was handed a bunch of forms to fill out. At that time I could speak Chinese pretty well. But my reading skills were merely fair - limited only to basic conversational and business jargon. The legal words on these documents went well beyond anything I had ever seen. They were filled with complex terminology that looked harsh, extremely intimidating at the least. The gist... The first few forms were investigative cover forms that collected basic information, such as my name, address and employment info.

The latter set of forms were what I was to learn later were "the self-criticism papers".

These papers ranged from forms with standard legal language indicating crime, and went on to include a customized explanation of my "treachery". These endless forms were laced with verbosity stemming from the persecution era of the Chinese Proletariat Revolution, a time when people hunted down bourgeois landlords and successful businessmen responsible for the oppression of the common man.

In those days, people who signed these papers were immediately sent to their death.

I then did what I had to do. I signed each form.

My life was now given away to forces unknown.

After signing, I paid a large fine (equivalent to about USD $700.00), the original copies of all the documents I signed were provided to the Customs officer as a release of his liability in this affair, and my passport was once again taken away by that same angry man.

NEW VISA

Two weeks later, Annie and I were summoned to the Customs office. After paying another fine and hearing the Customs officer sternly admonish me to commit no further crime, he handed over my passport with my new work visa. He then reminded me not to do anything wrong again because he held the original signed documents of my confession.

I left his office as a free man. All along I knew, in some back-office file, were papers that could have put an end to that freedom at any time...

I went on to work and play in China for three years in relative freedom.

And it was some of the best years of my life.

MY THANKS TO...

In the end, it was "good relations" with people - good decent people - that ensured my freedom to continue living and working in China. When the time came, this same relations also allowed me the freedom of safe passage out of China, back to my home in America.

To be writing this story now, I offer my thanks to:

Gloria and her husband Ian:

After arriving in China in the winter of 1995, I was greeted by a city filled with factory pollution and bitterly cold overcast weather. I quickly came down with a very bad cold and fever, which kept me away from my new job at the office. So in addition to feeling sick, I also felt pretty bad that my absence due to illness right after starting a new job also made me look pretty bad at the office.It made me "lose face". Overall I felt pretty miserable.

To brighten this dark time, my office colleague, Gloria, came to my rescue. She was the very first friend I made in China, and she remained a good friend for years after. It was through Gloria's husband, an officer in the Chinese PSB, who arranged the first necessary connections that led to my eventual meeting with Mr. Chang.

Annie:

All this time my very able office colleague, Annie (see IMAGE 2 - #1), had been helping me out - basically "holding my hand" psychologically. Annie had a tough sense of street smarts about her. As I got to know her better, I found out that Annie had worked for some years as a counselor at a Chinese juvenile detention hall. To this background I attribute her tough demeanor.

Annie was very petite of frame. So it was surprising to hear her blurt out brusque comments, of which she was often prone. Thankfully Annie would invariably add some innocuous statement, which served to transform a serious situation into a moment of humor.

To this effect Annie pretty much summed up my ordeal on our final taxi ride back from the PSB office:

"Wow, John, you really screwed up! ... Hey, let's go get some lunch!"

Annie and I are still friends to this day. She lives in Canada now, eh?

Amy:

Amy (see IMAGE 2 - #2) was a silent but powerful background presence in support of my passage through this tough time. Her silent composure imposed a sense of dignity on everyone around her, and her strong record with the Communist Party didn't hurt either.

Madame Liu:

Madame Liu Xin was a "silent partner" in this affair. It wasn't until much later that I was to learn she would have served as an extremely powerful backup in case my efforts in Shanghai didn't pan out. Go to the index of my articles for an upcoming story about her - "The Illustrious Madame Liu".

Mr. Chang:

Mr. Chang (see IMAGE 1) was undoubtedly a soldier, truly dedicated to his people and to his country. But he was there to help a stranger - a foreigner in time of need. After my ordeal, Mr. Chang and I kept in touch. Through him I had the chance to meet other powerful people in government, all of whom would have proven to be very useful connections for doing business in China.

*********

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Published by John Melendez

The Yahoo! Contributor Network ranks John Melendez in the Top 1% of its 400,000 writers. John has worked as a journalist and technical writer developing content for industry, health care, and IT. John Me...  View profile

"I was being sized up by a soldier of the People's Army, of the People's Republic of China. My life lay in this soldier's hands. His name was Mr. Chang."

4 Comments

Post a Comment
  • cathiesbloggs9/3/2007

    wow..this is a very interesting story..thanks for this

  • Christine Tetreault8/23/2007

    Wow. What a tale of amazing cultural kindness and cultural bureaucracy combined. Still got that red wig? :)

  • John Melendez8/23/2007

    Yes, that was trust, plus having no choice otherwise, unless I wanted to actually go to prison...

  • Carol Bengle Gilbert8/22/2007

    John, this is a fascinating story and shows how important it is to understand the culture wherever you may go. What an amazing amount of trust was required of you to sign those papers!

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