In China's quake zone, pain and anger

ANREN, China - From the famous pig that survived under rubble for 36 days, to a water bottle used by Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao as he toured devastated buildings and schools, the Wenchuan Earthquake Museum seems to have it all.There are crushed cars, battered toys and discarded school backpacks legacies of the magnitude-7.9 earthquake that, a year ago today, killed as many as 90,000 people in southwestern China. Yet the museum, which opened Monday, contains no mention of what continues to be the quake's biggest controversy: how schools collapsed in disproportionately high numbers, killing thousands of children and infuriating parents who still blame shoddy government construction practices.The omission is intentional, says Fan Jianchuan, the museum's founder. He backs the Communist Party's version of events: that the quake was a tragedy but the government responded effectively, and a probe into possible abuses would only upset the nation's prized stability."We must leave problems like this for history to resolve," Fan says.Across Sichuan and other hard-hit provinces, entire towns and villages are being rebuilt in one of the most ambitious disaster-relief projects ever undertaken. Many who lost children or loved ones are trying to move on. Yet it is clear that despite initial hopes that the earthquake would lead to greater transparency in government and maybe even justice for the dead China's culture of political secrecy and total social control has emerged from the tragedy as strong as ever.Zhou Siqiang, who lost his 15-year-old daughter at the Juyuan Middle School, says he tried in vain for months to get an explanation from local officials for why the building collapsed when many nearby did not. He says police then began watching his movements, and that they stopped him and other parents from visiting the school site in April for China's traditional "tomb-sweeping" festival, when the dead are honored.Zhou says he fears the police might try to keep parents away from the school again today, when the government plans to commemorate the anniversary of the quake with events that are almost uniformly forward-looking and positive such as breaking ground on construction of a middle school for residents of Beichuan, the city that was hit hardest by the tremor, losing an estimated half of its 20,000 population.In a report released last week, human rights group Amnesty International documented several cases of illegal detention of parents and harassment of the activists and lawyers who have tried to help them. Among them was Wang Xiaodong, 37, a businessman turned activist who says he had to flee the area after police began tracking him in April for investigating construction standards at schools.The authorities "worry the (truth) will be exposed, so they waste money and manpower watching me and my parents," says Wang, who has relocated to Shanghai. He says he wants to avoid the fate of Tan Zuoren, a local writer who called for volunteers to compile a list of dead students and has been detained since March 28.A rapid reconstruction Since the BeijingOlympics last August, the world has become accustomed to China executing mammoth construction projects in almost unthinkably short periods. The post-quake rebuilding effort has been no exception.The government has spent about $52 billion on new buildings, highways and other infrastructure, according to the state-run Xinhua News Agency. Another $100 billion is planned on projects that include the reconstruction of Beichuan on a site 20 miles away.Ramsey Rayyis, head of the American Red Cross in China, says he is "overwhelmed" by the speed of reconstruction. "I've never seen a response like that in anyplace I've been," says the 20-year Red Cross veteran. He says he was most impressed by the disease prevention teams that were set up on the sides of roads after the quake, and the pride of citizens who were helping their country.Generous help also has flowed in from abroad, including the United States. Cash and relief materials from domestic and foreign donors has totaled $11.2 billion, the Chinese government said Monday."The American public should feel pleased about how their money was used," Rayyis says.The speed of home reconstruction is "amazingly fast," agrees Canadian Steve Ross, deputy director of training and quality services for Canada Wood, an industry group. Ross has worked in the quake zone since January, helping rebuild wooden homes in the village of Gaoba. "It's pretty phenomenal that they have built so many houses in such a short time," Ross says more than 1 million of them, the Chinese government says, to help shelter an estimated 5 million people left homeless by the quake. "In North America, we have all those bureaucratic channels. Here, if they want to build something, then they do it, without jumping through all the hoops we have to," Ross says.Progress on the political front has been much slower. The government initially tried to appease grass-roots anger by promising a thorough investigation of the collapsed schools. In March, though, the deputy governor of Sichuan, Wei Hong, declared that the "most direct" reason for the collapses was the sheer strength of the quake that no building codes, however stringent, could have prevented the tragedy.That view was echoed by Zhang Pengcheng, a civil engineer from Xiamen University in southeastern China, who spent almost a month last May in Sichuan as part of a government team assessing which buildings were safe to inhabit. He says schools are inherently weak structures. "Each classroom requires a large space with few columns and big windows, which reduces their resistance to earthquakes," Zhang says.Liu Zuoming, head of Sichuan's justice department, recently was quoted in the Shanghai-based magazine Oriental Outlook as saying he did not support further investigations into who was responsible for the building collapses. Local and national officials have preferred to focus on the improved safety standards of new schools being built."They will be used as emergency shelters in any future earthquake," Zhang predicted proudly.The psychological damage That look-to-the-future message doesn't always appear to work, even for government workers: Three Sichuan officials who lost relatives in the quake have committed suicide during the past year. Volunteer psychiatrist Liu Meng has spent the past year helping survivors in one of thousands of temporary housing units that still dot the affected region, which is about 1,200 miles west of Beijing. Liu says he tries to avoid the issue of school collapses, focusing instead on expectant and new mothers many of whom lost their only child under China's strict family-planning policies, and are now trying to rebuild their families."Many women miscarry because of mental problems," says Liu, who was so affected by the disaster that he left behind a practice in Beijing, where he was earning $145 per hour for consultations, to help give free help to quake victims while he lives off of his savings."I don't try to make them forget the disaster, but I want my patients to know their role," he says. "They still feel, 'I am a mother who lost a child,' but I tell them, 'You are a pregnant woman who cannot let excessive sadness harm your child's health.' ""Some mothers feel their child has returned, but I tell them each child has their own life and identity. They cannot be replacement babies," Liu says.At night, Liu's cellphone still buzzes with anxious callers, often suicidal.Last October, Jiang Ling called and talked with Liu for hours. "I wanted to end my life; I have no relatives left, it's just me," says Jiang, 23, who lost 13 relatives, including her mother and 2-month-old son. Her mother had taken the infant out for a stroll moments before the quake hit. "I needed to talk to somebody."Jiang, who says her life was spared when her third-floor apartment collapsed on top of the ones below it, says she is still haunted by what might have been. "If I had spoken to my mother and baby for just one more minute, if I had cared for them for one more minute, maybe they would be alive, too," she says.The bodies of Jiang's mother and baby have not been found.'It isn't over yet' Jiang was among those who visited Beichuan on Sunday, as the government opened the sealed ruins for four days of mourning. Amid thousands of grieving people, some of whom set off firecrackers and burned imitation paper money for their dead relatives, Jiang wept as she placed flowers and a cake near her old home.Dai Guohong, 19, who lost his legs when his middle school collapsed and killed half of his classmates, has relied on his sense of humor to get through the pain. Pointing to his prosthetic limbs, he says that in the past he shied away from Beichuan's annual fire-walking festival. "Now I can walk barefoot on the flames," he jokes from his hospital bed. Psychiatric consultant Liu Meng predicts a long road to recovery. "The whole of Chinese society must keep on caring about this disaster. It isn't over yet," he says. "We can clear up the rubbish and the ruins, but the ruins in people's hearts need 20 years to rebuild."Zhou Siqiang, the parent who lost his 15-year-old daughter, says it will be difficult to move on until there is justice for the school victims.He's not hopeful."I never get a reply from the government," he says. "I don't care about the compensation. I just want someone to take responsibility."Contributing: Sunny Yang