November 2004: China Trip Report
and Editorial
Thinking Asia
by Dave Bond
reprinted from the Silver Valley Mining Journal"
Changsha, China – I am going to one-up the broken social contract Alec Baldwin, Barbara Streisand, and every other Hollywood genius save James Woods made four years ago, that if George W. Bush were elected in 2000, they would leave the country. (Bloody shame they didn’t.) I’m going them one better this year: If either George W. Bush OR John Kerry wins the presidency next Tuesday, I am going to flee this country like the planetary plague it has become and apply to Beijing for political asylum.
After all, China is accepting political refugees from North Korea – took 300 of them in just last week – and North Korea is just a U.S. wannabe, a big, mean country with a currency the planet rejects but plenty of mean peacekeeper cops to send anywhere on a moment’s notice.
China.
What can you say about such a huge, messy, smelly, yeasty mass of hope and ambition? I took tea last Sunday in the home of a Beijing family. Not on the agenda, this, just a flyer, a lark. My hosts are damned proud of their accomplishments. They have by hard work and sacrifice and a lot of sleepless nights achieved the American Dream. They own their own 800-square-foot pad in Century Towers and drive a late-model German car. They have become members of the Middle Class. They are not afraid to gripe about the cops or to inveigh against their own politics. The indium-fired LCD on the front of their VCR flashes the perennial 8:00 time signal because their 15-year-old, who is out hanging out with her rebellious artist friends this afternoon, hasn’t bothered to explain the remote to them.
I am lucky. Feng – she goes by the dreadfully American name of Vivian to her foreign acquaintances – augments her living at the Beijing Foreign Studies University by translating during mining conventions around the planet. She speaks mining, and has been to more American cities than I have. She has photos of herself with Paul O’Neill, erstwhile U.S. Treasury Secretary, now of Alcoa, and the president of Iceland. She’s chums, by virtue of her interpreting skills, with the honchos of Inco and Phelps Dodge. She speaks mining, and knows what I mean when I say it’s time to muck a thing out. She is one of just 20 simultaneous English-Chinese translators residing in this city of 14 million. Her English, wrought of a Chinese-British education, is flawless. Learning the nuanced slang of hard-rock mining will do that for you.
It is the seventh and penultimate day I will spend in this place. I have done the touristy stuff in Beijing, Forbidden City, Summer Palace, blah-blah-blah, then hauled myself aboard an Air China Boeing jet for the destination city of Changsha for five days of conferences and visits the common subject of which is silver. (Odd, I flew a French-built Airbus in Northwest Orient Airlines livery to get to China but once inside, flew on a Seattle-built Air China Boeing 737).
Silver.
From a friend in Moscow last April I have gotten the idea that the ideal business card for a journalist visiting abroad would be a one-ounce round of triple-nine, name and URL engraved. Not something somebody leaves in an ashtray. I made 100 of them, costing about $12 apiece. These are a huge hit on the opening night. I try to explain to my hosts, which include the Silver Institute and Antaike Metals, that these are just round business cards – not gifts requiring reciprocation. But the gifts begin to flow, and in an act of one-upmanship, I am presented a triple-nine silver round in return – but one that has been to Outer Space.
What a family we are assembling for our silver revolution. Patricia Mohr of Scotiabank is there. So is Marino Pieterse, a Dutchman who writes the gold newsletter in Europe at goldresearchcentre.com, and Don Franz, publisher of a the very slick Photofinishing News out of Bonita Springs who had the perspicacity to open a Chinese bureau four years ago in Guangzhou and now publishes in the two languages. (Don’s China operations chief, “Edith” Liu, has become my new best friend in China. She is so afraid I will open an emergency exit door on the airplane mid-flight or fall through the toilet at a truck stop that she assigns herself to my every attention. There is great advantage to appearing pathetic.) Yanfu Cao, director of the Xingguang smelter district in Yongxing in Hunan’s center, speaks no English, but he can run a smelter. The fires are banked down in respect of his visiting tourists and he speaks no English, but he speaks – with help from Veronica and Edith – perfect mining. He has never heard of the Silver Valley of northern Idaho, or of Hecla or Coeur, but he’d sure like to know anybody with concentrates for sale. ”Where you getting your cons from?” I ask him. “Anywhere we can,” he replies. So would Gao Lin of Antaike, so would Jimmy Kowk (every party has a Jimmy and this Jimmy was ours – the bulging briefcase man from hell) of Ra-Chem in Kwai Chun.
I took a side-trip to a new metallurgical industrial park they’re building four hours south of Changsha in a wide spot in the road called Chenzou. It looked like a new Wal-Mart under construction. This is a town that celebrates metallurgy, for cryin’ out loud, and they’ve built a new freeway to it. The size of the Hunan Chenzhou Shizhuyan Nonferrous Metals Technology Industrial Park is as staggering as its name.
Almost as staggering as this fact: there’s not a lawyer amongst the upper echelon of the Chinese government. To a man and woman, they are engineers.
Engineers running a country, engineers from China’s best university? Still want odds?
Upon returning to Wallace, I pulled up a jug of Dewar’s with my Wallace friend and neighbor, Michael Green, who is a seasoned Asia traveler and a close confidant. What’s next and how do you share this experience without pissing people off and losing your audience? I asked him.
Well, he replied, You don’t. They won’t get it and it will hurt your feelings if you try. Just show them four of your best pictures and make up a good story about each one, even if it’s a lie, then drop it.
Michael is probably right.
Unlike the European bankers, the Chinese have never crossed us, never tried to hurt or invade us, never endeavoured to steal from us. The only times America crossed swords with China was at her borders, at Korea and Viet Nam.
Look at a map of the world. Korea occupies China’s northern border; Viet Nam her south. If some Asian horde intervened in a civil war in Mexico, and started hustling B-52s within inches of the Rio Grande, maybe we’d get a bit testy, too. Do you know why Chinese immigrants came here to build our railroads for starvation wages? Because the Europeans, our friends, the British and French, were slaughtering them by the bucket-load and they had nowhere else to turn. (The Japanese took over this European duty in the 1930s, making Hitler look like a piker.) Do your history. Do the math. And don’t you tell me we were kind to them – my own researches took me to a place not far outside Vancouver, Washington, where we herded 60 Chinese people into a boxcar and lit it on fire. To protect us from infectious diseases, of course, but also because otherwise the railroad would have had to pay them their wages.
What I can tell you for sure is this: China needs silver, gold, lead, zinc, copper and nickel. Not because they’re trying to corner the world market.
It’s because their parents want to make a better life for their kids, and so they need stuff. They need metals, as any growing society does, and we can either do business with them or fail our own children by just watching them.
The opportunities for second-tier companies like Hecla, Coeur, Sterling, Crystallex, Apex, Bunker Hill, Silver Standard – concentrate-providers the Chinese would like to know – are astounding. There is business to be done and it will be done if these companies will talk to China.
The sun is rising on China. They are powerful, they are kind and friendly if you let them be, and they have no mean ambitions. They just want to go to work, to make love with their spouses when they get home, take care of their kids, drive a decent car, get through life with dignity.
Kinda like we used to be.
It was good to visit America. Such a damned shame to have to come back to the States. But we have a common language, and it is mining, and it can bridge the Pacific. The lawyers have had their day. Let’s give the engineers a chance.
David Bond
Oct 28, 2004
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