Senior Writer








China September 20, 2007 11:30PM
An Ancient Culture Confronts New Challenges
Senior Writer
Family life in China’s Liangshan Yi Autonomous Prefecture is often isolated. “Liangshan” itself means “cool mountain” in Mandarin Chinese. Indeed, family farms of the Yi ethnic group are scattered among the rolling mountains, often several hours’ walking distance from the nearest town.
Throughout the prefecture, which is roughly the same size as the state of West Virginia, thousands of children live too far from the nearest school to pursue an education. This is particularly true of girls and young women, who are expected to stay home and tend house and fields.
As a result of missing out on opportunities to learn, Yi youth often fall prey to temptations that they encounter when away from home. Thousands of Yi migrate every year to burgeoning major cities to try their luck at catching hold of China’s economic dream but more often fail to find gainful work at all. Instead, unskilled and naïve, these youth succumb to societal ills like drugs and prostitution — issues they carry back with them when they return to the Yi homeland.
The Liangshan Yi are an ethnic group at risk; faced with the challenges of a rapidly changing Chinese economy, they need the optimism, ingenuity and action of their youth more than ever. The Chinese government has committed significant resources to improving physical infrastructure such as roads and public buildings, but the Yi are in need of something else: a resurgence of the human spirit.
This project, funded by a generous grant from the Nike Foundation, is giving girls aged 10 to 18 years the opportunity to attend, free of charge, an innovative school where they are taught traditional subjects such as language, health and math, as well as vocational skills that will help prepare them to earn a living wage.
They also study their own language, Yi, and learn more about their culture’s songs, dances and history. The hope is that these young women will help preserve and pass on colorful, vibrant customs that are eroding because of widespread poverty and migration from the area.
Despite the isolation that most of them have been used to all their lives, the young women at the school are quickly adapting to days spent together with classmates, especially in the close quarters of classrooms and dormitories.
“They are working hard to form a caring community that accomplishes tasks together,” said Luw Gian, the school’s director. “They are making a difference not only for themselves, but for all Liangshan Yi people.”
Project GLOW is also training young men and women to serve as peer educators who will spread HIV/AIDS awareness and prevention messages to the surrounding villages. The current goal is to reach at least 2,500 youth over the next three years.
Through the education of its young women and outreach to at-risk communities, Project GLOW aims to help the Yi people not only survive, but thrive.
China September 20, 2007 11:30PM
The China Few Have Seen
Senior Writer
I believe you can learn a lot about a place from the journey to get there. I've never traveled to a place where this was as true as it is for Zhuhe Township, China.
I recently visited China to witness Mercy Corps' work through local partners, to interview those benefiting from our humanitarian programs, and to get as much of a sense of the country and its myriad cultures as one can in a three-week time span. Soon after arriving in Beijing, China's capital, I began the nearly two-day trek to reach Zhuhe Township, the site of Mercy Corps' Giving Leadership Opportunities to Young Women (GLOW) project.
Zhuhe Township, in the Liangshan Yi Autonomous Prefecture of southern China's Sichuan Province, is as isolated a place as I've ever been. Even with China's efficient airline network and vehicles at our disposal, the journey there was nothing short of exhausting. And the change of scenery — not to mention the shift in culture — was dizzying.
From Beijing — a gargantuan city of nearly 17 million people with a prolific skyline that swallows the horizon in all directions — we flew three hours to Chengdu, the capital city of Sichuan Province. While still an enormous city of 11 million people, Chengdu seemed much smaller and less imposing than Beijing.
Our next flight lasted about an hour and took us to Xichang, the capital of the Liangshan Yi Autonomous Prefecture. Xichang is a sprawling and bustling city, yet more subdued and slower-paced than Chengdu. Even with a population of more than 125,000 people, Xichang seems quaint when compared with the massiveness of Beijing: here there are no soaring skyscrapers to block views of the surrounding mountains.
The next leg of our journey took us into those mountains. Within minutes, city life was replaced by the pastoral peace of rice paddies and unassuming rural households. As our car climbed higher in altitude, we passed through fewer villages. Scaling still higher, houses disappeared altogether as we wound above the tree line.
Several thousand feet above sea level in the world's most populous country, we were alone. There were no people or buildings anywhere.
This was a different China.
From Xichang, we drove for three hours to Zhaojue, the area's county seat. Here was Xichang in miniature, a place so far removed from Beijing or Chengdu that it seemed like a different country. Shops displayed the unique alphabet of the region's Yi people alongside ubiquitous Chinese characters. The sound of conversations in the air overwhelmed the din of passing cars and trucks.
But our destination was farther still, over another set of steep hills.
Low-slung apartment blocks gave way to thatched-roof mud houses. Tiny street-side market stalls replaced trinket-laden shop windows. Instead of the determined gaze of quick-moving city dwellers I saw weary sadness, even behind the smiles of friendly-eyed villagers.
Everything changed when we reached Zhuhe Township. It is a place hundreds of miles, and perhaps hundreds of years, away from China's rapidly growing, ultramodern cities. Predominated by the ancient Yi culture and deeply rooted in traditional agriculture, Zhuhe Township somehow seems left behind. Unfortunately, heroin addiction and the resulting spread of HIV/AIDS are hobbling the place — and its people — to limp forward at a much slower pace as other parts of the country surge ahead.
Here, in a part of China that few visitors — whether Western or even Asian — have gazed, was the end of our journey and the beginning of one of Mercy Corps' most critical tasks.
China September 20, 2007 11:30PM
Living and Learning Together
Senior Writer
When I visited Zhuhe Township, I had the opportunity to meet, interview and visit the homes of a half-dozen young women at the school. One thing I noticed was the absence of middle-age men nearly everywhere we went; there was a father present at only one of the family houses. I later found out that, because of drugs, HIV/AIDS and a poor standard of living, the life expectancy for men here has plummeted in recent years.
Life in the villages of Liangshan is harsh and difficult, yet there is grace, zest for life and enormous beauty here. Those things became especially apparent when I sat down to talk to the young women assisted by Project GLOW.
Aniu Erma, 16
Like many young Yi women, Aniu is painfully shy. While we’re talking, she frequently hides her face and gazes at her fingernails.
She comes from the village of Dawenquan, which is more than two hours’ walking distance up one of the mountains that surround Zhuhe Township, where their school is located. Aniu lived with her uncle’s family. When Project GLOW staff came to the village to talk about the school, her uncle initially refused the offer; he wanted her to stay and work in the fields. Eventually he changed his mind, but he still reminds her of the work that she would be doing if she’d remained on the farm.
Her family’s lack of support weighs heavily on Aniu’s mind. She was one of the first students at the school, beginning classes late last year, but she left not long into the school year because she found it hard to study. She eventually decided to return to classes in February 2007.
Aniu’s favorite subjects are Chinese and Yi, and she’s steadfastly working to learn characters for both languages. She was illiterate before attending school here, so writing is a challenge for her — but one she’s determined to master.
Besides her love of learning, Aniu stays here for the camaraderie of her fellow students. On most afternoons between classes and dinner, they get together and dance to Yi music in the courtyard of the school.
“I’m not so good at it,” Aniu admits. “But it’s fun.”
Mahai Keru, 14
It doesn’t take long to find out Mahai Keru’s favorite thing about the school.
“When I was at home, I didn’t have good food to eat,” she says. “But here, I like everything I eat every day.” She likes fried potatoes the best.
It’s also no surprise when Mahai tells us what she wants to be after she graduates from school: a cook.
She began attending the school in late 2006, after staff visited her mother in their home village of Leze, about a half-hour’s walk from Zhuhe Township. Mahai lived there on a small family farm with her mother, three brothers, two sisters, and a disabled uncle. They barely made ends meet by selling the corn, potatoes and rice that they grew on their tiny plot of land. Mahai’s mother, 46-year-old Qumo Jikemo, is enthusiastic about her daughter’s decision to attend school.
“I am very happy for Mahai’s opportunity to go there,” Qumo says. “She can live in a nice place, have friends and learn."
Mahai leans over to whisper something in her mother’s ear. Qumo laughs.
“Oh, and eat good food,” Qumo adds.
So it comes back to food. I ask Mahai what her specialty will be as a chef. She thinks for just a moment, her eyes full of possibilities, and then whispers two words: fried pork.
Jike Nixi, 16
Jike Nixi probably has the shortest walk of any student from her family’s house to school: her parents live in a weathered mud-brick house only about a hundred feet from the classroom building.
However, when it comes to her future, Jike definitely has longer distances on her mind.
“My favorite subject at school is Mandarin Chinese,” she explains. “It’s the key to getting around China, and it makes me feel good about traveling around my country when I’m older.”
Jike wants to be a waitress and, during her lifetime, to have the chance to live and work in many parts of China. Her parents, 58-year-old Ergu and 49-year-old Ami Rizuo, are supportive of their daughter’s dreams.
“We sent Jike to school to gain knowledge,” Ergu says. “What she studies and what she does with her knowledge are up to her.”
Jike quietly contemplates a picturesque scene on a magazine page hung on the wall; her portion of the family house is covered with pictures of faraway places. While her mind — and future — might lay thousands of miles from Zhuhe Township, she has all the support she could ever hope for just a hundred feet from her school desk.
China September 20, 2007 11:30PM
Bringing a Culture Back from the Brink
Senior Writer
Professor Hou Yuangao has spent his career studying southwest China’s rich cultures. Today, alongside Mercy Corps, he’s helping save and preserve his own endangered ethnic group.
Hou’s boyhood home is in Meigu County, an impoverished part of Sichuan Province where farmers’ hard work only brings them an average of $120 per year. This region, called the Liangshan Yi Autonomous Prefecture, is home to one of China’s poorest minorities: the Yi. More than seven million Yi people live in China, mostly in isolated and deforested mountainous regions of southwestern China.
As a young man, Hou left Sichuan Province to attend the Central University for Nationalities in Beijing, China’s capital. He chose history as his major course of study and, upon graduation, stayed on as a teaching assistant in the university’s Department of Ethnology. He began in-depth study of the very cultures he’d grown up around — including his own — at a time when that kind of research was just getting resurrected in China.
“Anthropology stopped for a very long time in the past,” Hou said. “When I began this work, there were fewer than a thousand anthropologists in all of China.”
Soon, Hou joined the university’s permanent teaching staff as Professor of Ethnology and Applied Anthropology, focusing on southwest China. His courses — and research — centered on minority population issues including poverty, women’s and children’s issues, cultural preservation, and migrants.
He frequently traveled from Beijing to Sichuan for his work. On each visit, he saw the quality of life decreasing in villages. Populations were sinking deeper into poverty, and families were losing the means to support themselves. Perhaps most alarmingly, once able-bodied young men and women were withering and dying.
In 2002, Hou’s work shifted from research to action.
Getting people to pay attention

The Yi Center employs young Yi actresses, actors and singers to present cultural plays that shed light on critical social issues. Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps
On each successive visit to Sichuan Province’s Yi communities, Hou witnessed a growing drug problem. The area’s Yi people were migrating in large numbers to more prosperous areas of China, such as Yunnan Province, in search of jobs. When they returned home — often without finding work — many came back addicted to heroin.
Along with drug habits that were previously unknown to Yi people, these migrants brought back HIV/AIDS. The communities — and culture — were ill equipped to deal with these unwelcome challenges.
Hou convened a group of fellow professors, students and others — called the Research Center for Western China Development — to address these challenges. Initially, their main goal was to get both local populations and government officials to pay attention. But awareness was only one part of the solution, and the crisis in Yi communities was quickly spiraling out of control.
“Drug usage and HIV/AIDS was affecting everyone in villages, to some degree,” Hou said. “I feared that, without intervention, these things would decimate the Yi people and destroy the area and the culture as we know it.”
So, once again, Hou came to the aid of his people.
Change begins at home
Hou realized that solutions for the Yi people must come from within their own communities, not from a working group far away in Beijing. As a result, he founded the Liangshan Norsu Women and Children’s Development Center in 2005. The center is headquartered in Xichang, the capital of the Liangshan Yi Autonomous Prefecture, within reach of hundreds of Yi villages.
The center was created — with a generous grant from the American Chamber of Commerce in Beijing — to support education, sustainable income and life skills training for young Yi people, especially females. The program began with one hundred Yi youth.
Those youth soon began to effect change for their communities: they became peer educators to fellow students in their home villages. They put on plays in local markets that raised awareness about the dangers of drug use. They got people thinking — and talking — about the devastation of HIV/AIDS.
“People just used to rely on the government for everything, but now there is a new power,” Hou said. “We have participation from our youth, and great support from the local population.”
The government of China began playing a critical role as well: it is heavily investing in infrastructure, such as a new highway that connects Yi communities to larger cities, to help ensure that rural families — and especially ethnic minorities — aren’t left behind as the country’s economic miracle unfolds.
A change was finally happening in Yi communities. And people took notice.
A shining partnership
The center’s success was recognized by the Chinese government, as well as by many international non-governmental organizations, including Mercy Corps. In 2006, with support from the Nike Foundation, Mercy Corps partnered with Hou’s Liangshan Norsu center to create the Giving Leadership Opportunities to Young Women program (Project GLOW).
Project GLOW reaches adolescent girls aged 10 to 18 with activities that focus on education, economic opportunities and health. Mercy Corps has helped the center open and expand a school in Zhuhe Township, a particularly impoverished town in the prefecture. Currently, 87 girls live at the school. Many of them are orphans or have lost a parent to drugs or HIV/AIDS.
Eight teachers, mostly from the Yi ethnic group, give lessons and activities on subjects such as Chinese Mandarin, math, Yi language, agriculture, sports, and physical education. Working at the school benefits the teachers as well: at the end of the year, they will receive valuable certification.
One of the center’s other benefits — which becomes abundantly clear by watching the girls interacting and laughing with each other — is the camaraderie they share. At a young age, they’re building friendships and a community of kindred spirits that will benefit their ethnic group for years to come.
There is still plenty of work to be done, Hou acknowledges. Dozens of Yi villages still languish in the conditions he sought to address when he first came home. Yet, even as Mercy Corps plans with Hou to expand enrollment to two hundred students, he’s already seeing a large portion of his vision come to fruition.
“These are my people, Yi people, learning about their own challenges,” Hou said. “They are taking responsibility and then taking action.”
China September 20, 2007 11:30PM
From Grief to Hope
Senior Writer
The 56-year-old woman stood and stared at the makeshift stage in Zhuhe Township’s market. Hundreds of other spectators watched the performance alongside her, but to Lee Tuluo, the actors spoke only to her.
Songs, traditional costumes and heartfelt words brought to life the story of a young Yi man who joyously weds the woman he loves but then, with no job to support his young family, turns to drugs. He steals from his family and friends to support his addiction and soon finds his health failing: he has contracted HIV/AIDS from sharing needles. The man spends his last remaining days close to his grieving family — including a young son — and passes away.
The curtains closed. Funereal violin music wafted over the village. The spectators shuffled away to their homes or market stalls, pondering what they’d just seen.
Lee walks slower than most, sadness possessing her entire body.
“How did they know the story of my own life?” she asks, tears in her eyes. “How did they know how to put my own feelings up there for all to see?”
The door that remains closed
Back in the family compound where she’s lived for more than 30 years, Lee sits on a tiny wooden stool outside a door bolted shut by a heavy iron lock. Her youngest daughter, 15-year-old Aniu Axi, has come home from school for a visit and sits beside her.
In August 2005 Lee lost her only son to HIV/AIDS. He was 30. Like the young man in the play, he had been unemployed and fell in with people who frequented local heroin dens. Shooting up became his sole life purpose; he stole nearly all of the family’s meager belongings, including livestock, to feed his addiction. He returned home, to the forgiving arms of a mother, to die.
After his body was removed from the house to be buried, Lee locked the door. It remains so today. Neither Lee Tuluo nor her daughters will ever open it again.
“It is where my son died,” Lee says quietly.
Aniu Axi wraps a comforting arm around her mother. For a moment, grief lifts from Lee’s shoulders and a gentle smile lights her eyes.
“My daughter’s going to school, you know,” Lee says. “She’s learning to make a good living for herself.”
Learning close to home
When her older brother died, Aniu Axi had an opportunity to leave the lingering sadness far behind and pursue an education in another part of China. Her oldest sister, who married a businessman and moved to a large city, asked Aniu to come and live with them. She even offered to pay all of Aniu’s school fees.
“I couldn’t go,” Aniu says nervously, picking at the straw that litters the dirt courtyard. “I needed to stay and help my mother. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
But soon, another opportunity came to Aniu.
In autumn 2006, staff from the Liangshan Norsu Women and Children’s Development Center came to visit Aniu and her mother. They explained that, with the help of a humanitarian organization called Mercy Corps, a school had opened in Zhuhe Township. Mercy Corps’ Giving Leadership Opportunities to Young Women program — Project GLOW — had come to help equip and empower young women like Aniu with the education and skills they needed to make better life decisions.
The GLOW project site was only a half-hour walk from Lee and Aniu’s house in the tranquil village of Leze. And, because it was sponsored by Mercy Corps, everything — tuition, room, board — was free. Mother and daughter soon decided to accept the offer for Aniu to attend. She started classes on December 24, 2006.
Today, Aniu spends her days learning and having fun alongside 86 other middle school-aged girls. Many of them have suffered tragedies like that of Aniu and her mother, but all are determined to achieve a better life.
Aniu walks home a few times every week to visit and help her mother. Their bond is strong, and leaving is always hard for both of them. But Lee Tuluo is confident that GLOW is the right place for her daughter.
“She tells me that the other girls at the school are her friends, and that the food is very good as well. She especially talks about the pork,” Lee laughs. “But, most of all, she likes the teachers. She says they’re like her parents.”
When asked about what tomorrow holds for her — a career, more education — Aniu says nothing, just smiling shyly and looking to her mother. The future, though already brightened by the opportunity to learn, seems far away from this moment.
There will always be memories and signs of grief for Lee and Aniu. But, today, mother and daughter are learning together about hope.
China September 20, 2007 11:30PM
Q&A with Guo Xin
Senior Writer
Guo Xin seemed destined for her job.
Before becoming a program officer for Mercy Corps, she did part-time work for local non-governmental organizations while a student in medical school. That work made her interested in a longer-term career in humanitarian work. Her chance came when one of her friends forwarded a Mercy Corps job announcement to her.
“I was surprised to find an international organization devoted to bettering the lives of poor Chinese families,” Guo Xin said. “And when I visited the website to find out more about the job, I was deeply impressed with the ‘Be the change’ idea.”
During her interview, her appreciation of Mercy Corps — and sense of serendipity — grew even more.
“I found out that Project GLOW was going to be implemented in Sichuan Province, which is my home as well,” she said.
Today, Guo Xin regularly travels from Mercy Corps’ Beijing office to the Project GLOW site in southwestern China’s Sichuan Province. While there, she provides training to the local staff, monitors and evaluates the program’s progress, and just spends time interacting with the young women whom the project serves.
She recently took time to answer a few questions.
What is the objective of the Giving Leadership Opportunities to Young Women project (Project GLOW)?
Mercy Corps helped start Project GLOW to empower Yi ethnic adolescent youth, especially girls, in southwest China to improve their ability to earn a living wage, and to better their social, educational and health status.
Guo Xin walks along the road to Zhuhe Township with 12-year-old Erji Zini, a student enrolled in Project GLOW activities. Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps When was the first time you visited Zhuhe Township for work on the project, and what were your initial impressions of the people there and of the area itself?
I first traveled to Zhuhe Township on January 22, 2007, in the midst of winter in the mountains. I immediately noticed that people there were very poor, wearing often-ragged clothing. Even in the winter, some of them didn’t have shoes on their feet. There were no trees on the surrounding mountains, which made the place even more desolate.
What are the biggest challenges for young women growing up in the area?
Young Yi women have very little chance to get an education at all and, as a result, have little chance to make important life decisions by themselves.
How is Mercy Corps helping young Yi women meet those challenges?
We provide them with literacy, health, life skills, and vocational training so that they can prepare themselves well for either migrating to other cities for work or staying to find good jobs and earn money locally. We also deliver HIV/AIDS and drug use prevention information to help them survive the epidemic disaster of AIDS, which is caused in large part by shared needles during heroin use among the local population
What do the young women learn at the training center?
The curriculum includes Chinese Mandarin, math, Yi language, health and life skills, agriculture skills, sports and physical education, recreational activities, and lectures about job skills.
How many young women are there now? How many more will be enrolled in the near future? How many teachers are there?
We have 87 girls now in the training center, and 11 girls are also doing vocational work in addition to their schooling. We plan to enroll another hundred students by the end of this year. There are currently eight teachers at the training center.
Is there a particularly heartwarming story you'd like to share about time you spent at the training center?
My best memory so far is dancing with our girls after dinner to make us warmer in winter. I could feel so much friendship and warmth. They are very happy at the training center, especially when they sing and dance. Our girls are really very bright; they just lack opportunities to make their potentialities into reality.
What are some additional things that Mercy Corps would like to do at the training center — and in the Liangshan area — in the near future?
We would like to help girls live and learn in a better-equipped training center, and to give them even stronger support to change their lives. We also want to share and replicate the successful experiences we’ve had with other organizations and schools throughout the Liangshan Yi region.
Is there a particular quote or phrase that describes your work with Project GLOW?
Work in Zhuhe Township and the surrounding areas is not easy, but it’s always exciting.
China September 20, 2007 11:30PM
A Song of Sadness
Senior Writer
Mahai Azhi’s soft smile belies the tragedies she’s endured in her young life. She was orphaned several years ago when both parents were taken to prison for selling heroin. Her father has since passed away; her mother remains in jail. Mahai and her younger brother went to live with their grandmother, until she too passed away.
Mahai’s third home was with a widowed aunt. She and her brother lived and worked there until, in the autumn of 2006, staff from Mercy Corps’ Project GLOW visited their village and told Mahai about the girls school in Zhuhe Township.
Project GLOW has offered Mahai something she could never quite trust in the places she’s stayed: stability and a place to call home. She attends school for free (her brother attends another local school), taking classes like math and language from teachers who are ethnic Yi, like she is. She lives in a dormitory room with seven other girls.
“The girls have become sisters to me,” Mahai says thoughtfully. “I’ve never felt as welcome as I do here.”
Mahai is doing well in classes. She’s particularly excelling in one of the traditional crafts of the Yi people.
“I like to do embroidery the best,” she says. “It’s the handicraft of my people. I feel good when I weave together threads of black, red and yellow.”
But, despite her new surroundings and the opportunities that school has given her, Mahai still misses her parents — particularly her mother. She took time during a visit to sing a heartfelt song in Yi called “Grief Mother,” which describes the feelings of a young girl missing her mother at night.
Click on the play button below to hear Mahai sing "Grief Mother."
Audio courtesy of Gideon D'Arcangelo/ESI Design










