Twice I have visited the 0.5-hectare museum, a converted shabby tractor factory, in the outskirts of Nanchang, Jiangxi province, in South China. It was there the adored Deng Xiaoping was confined to work on machine tools, together with his wife and children, for 18 months in late 1960s and early 1970s. Tears welled up each time when I strolled along the 200-meter path, starting from the back door of the factory and ending at a brick wall. I was told the small road, accompanied by wildly growing grass on both sides that zigzagged on a plot of sloppy red soil typical of Jiangxi's landscape, was Deng's making. I marvel at the resilience of this great man in de facto captivity, and the boundless love he had for his poor country and his fellow countrymen while he waited for his moment and set off his glittering explosion of ideas. It must have been the tens of thousands of walks and deep thinking there that ushered in an epoch of Chinese brilliance, or a revival of a nation many historians extol today. In a few days, the country will stage a big event to mark the day –- the 30th anniversary of "Reform and Opening-up", the brainchild of Deng. President Hu Jintao will address a large Beijing gathering, with a festival that tens of millions of Chinese will watch and enjoy on the TV, through mobile phones or broadband Internet chat-rooms. Yes, it is Deng who made all this possible. Residents in Shenzhen, Shanghai's Pudong, Tianjin's Bohai New Zone, Beijing's Yizhuang and CBD (central business district), and many other regions know full well what reform and opening-up has brought to our lives. Shenzhen, an emblem of the new dawn and now the country's fourth largest city, was built from a small fishing village. Pudong, where stands several of China's landmark buildings, was once the poorest place in Shanghai. The neon lights, pubs and clubs in CBD are what the young, office workers and expats would rather die without in Beijing. |