Doc Journal: March 2007 (Discovery Channel scout trip)
March 13, 2007




"He's back..."

Yes, the comment referred to me, as I have just returned to China for the seventeenth time. And no, it wasn't spoken by the FengYuan hotel massage girls, the Shaolin monks, Shi Decheng's students, or the waitresses at the nearby restaurants that I have terrorized in the past.

It was spoken by Yongxin's "eyes". And, the big guy wasn't even here in Dengfeng. He's in Beijing, at a national representative meeting.

It was during a long conversation, with a very good and close friend of mine, a senior Shaolin monk who shall remain nameless for obvious reasons, that I discovered that the Yongxin gang knew I had arrived in Dengfeng. And surprisingly, it seems, within an hour of my entrance into the beloved Fengyuan hotel, where I have spent the better part of over a year, during the previous decade. And those "eyes", those people that Yongxin has throughout Dengfeng, notified him in Beijing that I was back. As if any of these people should really care. I found it quite comical, as did my long term friend. As we sat shivering in the office of his gong fu school, we both laughed at the thought of it.

Imagine. Yongxin has a network, a veritable slew of people, who watch. They're put in a position, to watch. And, even today, when I was greeted at the entrance to the new Shaolin temple grounds, escorted through the Disneyesque pass and ticket areas by some young monk who claimed to have known me but whom I couldn't remember, commenting that I have gotten bigger and stronger over the past few years, I was being watched. As was my well known and long term monk friend. Little did I know at the time, that that young monk, was a spy, placed not to watch me, but also, to keep an eye on my dear friend. He told me later that there were a few of Yongxin's disciples, who were planted in his school as his assistants and pretend to be disciples, to help keep an eye on what was going on in the temple area and beyond. We had our discussion away from the temple grounds, after getting rid of my monk friend's faux assistant.

So it was his school office that we sat, shivering against the cold, drinking tea, and talking not only about his life, the things that were happening locally, but also about this project that I got involved in. For it was only three weeks ago or so, that a production studio for the Discovery Channel contacted me about a documentary that they were planning on doing in Shaolin. And, they needed help. They found me after doing research on the internet, and after contacting some of the various major players in the field. They thought I could help them best, with this second of a series of martial arts documentaries, this one, on Shaolin gong fu. I knew the place, knew the people, and more importantly, had contacts. But, one thing had also become obvious in this process.

I had enemies. And they were enemies, because of this very website.

It was made clear to me via my contacts in Shaolin, that it would be important that Yongxin not know I was involved in this video production. The senior monk I was speaking to had informed me through friends that I had to keep a low profile during the scout trip here to Dengfeng; had Yongxin discovered that I was in any way associated with this television event, he would find a way to kabash it. So, I had made it clear to the production team that more than likely, I would end up being a liability to them. They wanted me anyway.

So, here I am. In Dengfeng. And, Shi Yongxin knew about it, relatively soon after I entered the beloved, remodeled, and still smelly, FengYuan.

But, it's been three days, we're almost done, I've used my fairly small but powerful network of people here to set up their show, and all seems to be on track, with nary a burp. Navigating the political minefields has been interesting, dealing with Chinese culture, methods, mentality, and procedures has been a little agonizing, but I've directed the team through it. One more day and I'm back to Beijing, and thereafter, onward to Thailand, to a girlfriend who doesn't understand why I showed up for three days, and then left again.

A lot has changed. Shaolin has really evolved. As I've discussed before, the entire place is organized to funnel people to the tourist attractions within. In much the same way Disney organizes their theme parks, so has the local Chinese government done here. The new highway, from Zhengzhou to the Shaolin area that few people use, because of the exorbitant ten dollar toll fee. The new roads from Dengfeng to the Shaolin area. The large outdoor parking lot, which then funnels people into a well organized shopping center / ticket area, eventually dumps them out to the thankfully non dragon designed tram cars. A road then drifts down through the old village which has been largely removed, to the main gateway of the Shaolin area and the wushu guan. Well manicured and disgustingly perfect landscaping adorn the entire area.

It's created to move as many people as possible in and out of the temple. It's horribly commercialized. It's expensive, at 100 Yuan (twelve USD) per admission. It appears to be remotely associated with anything religious. Performance teams give gaudy gong fu shows three times a day at the wushu guan, which, itself has been completely renovated.

And, it's all beautiful.

I have to admit, the big guy ended up doing something decent here. Even though it has lost its original flavor, which, in the past, had its good and bad points.

The temple itself has been finished, with the front pavillion buildings redone to pre 1928 specifications, or, so they say. There are a few more stone tablets erected here and there, and the museum area now has a medicine pavillion, in place of the gaudy gong fu show area that I talked viciously about in journals about two years back. They most certainly have gotten away from the gong fu exhibition nonsense of two years ago, moving the temple back towards a more Buddhist approach, which works much better. Yongxin still owns some gong fu school in neighboring Dengfeng, so he's not out of the business so to speak; he pulls his best students from those schools and creates the traveling "monk" tours that travel the world. The Bamboo garden area is still under renovation, and they've torn down all the housing that was on the east side of the temple area, including Decheng's (and Su Yuan's) old rooms. By the way, Decheng is not too happy about that, and, for some reason, I got the sense that he's become "persona non grata" at Shaolin. Even he has to pay to enter the area. My senior monk friend, who still lives in the temple, and at his school, had me merrily whisked through all the ticket areas, without any problem. My shifu, Decheng, had to wait outside. I thought it all, a little bizarre.

The politics of the area seemed to have changed a bit. Yongxin is still in control, but, from my impressions with people, he is not the supreme commander of the area that we all once thought him to be. It seems that there are people above, in the Zhengzhou government, that are now pulling the strings. They have an incredible cash cow at Shaolin, with a few million visitors a year (at twelve bucks a head), so you can imagine the monies being shifted around. In fact, the Zhengzhou airport has been completely renovated; it is now one incredibly beautiful and effective structure that puts any of our airports in the US to complete and utter shame. I'm really overwhelmed by the amount of money that I see being spent in this area. And to think, that a mere twelve years ago, when I first came, the Zhengzhou airport had dirt floors located within it. That small non-descript building, which I had wished I had taken photos of, has turned into a facility that LAX would be envious of. It seems to be pretty clear, from the constant evolution, and, rapidly increasing prices in the area, that Zhengzhou / Dengfeng is evolving rapidly into a large commercial center.

The nearby schools in Dengfeng are becoming far too numerous to count. And, they're all expanding. New buildings are everywhere; Tagou, the largest most monstrous facility I've ever seen, is still expanding. With over ten thousand students, if they can even count them at this time, and the use of the huge old facility still in Shaolin village, it is an overwhelming place. Sending students to train there is anathema to me, as all I can imagine is a few little white guys getting drowned in this sea of sweat suited domestic Chinese students. It's all just too incredible. Having risen through some large and prestigious US university systems does not prepare me for what I see at Tagou and Epo.

More to come. I'm exhausted, after traveling from the US, to Bangkok, to Phuket, to Beijing, and now, to Dengfeng. A place that was once referred to as my "second home".



E Tickets in Whoreland

I noticed it as soon as I walked in. Something was missing. Something small, inconsequential, yet, terribly important, was gone.

It was the shampoo.

My first night entering the FengYuan, and off I went to the hair salon, which also in the past ten years, doubled as a legitimate massage parlor. Wooden tables were kept in the back rooms where massages, of varying qualities, could be had for about ten bucks. But what I was more interested in, was whether or not my old Chinese girlfriend, Purlple Snow, was still working there. Her sister ran the place as the manager, and she had kept one hell of a tight ship. It had taken me a good year or two before I could get Purple Snow to stay with me in my room upstairs at the FengYuan; any massages in the hotel rooms had to be done with a matronly older bitch as an accompaniment, in some occasions. Rarely, I could get a girl upstairs for a massage, and a massage only. The whores inhabited the sixth floor karaoke area, and even then, it was all a very hush hush, and relatively dangerous deal, especially for foreigners.

Back then, getting whores was a risky proposition. For the working girls in the karaoke bar upstairs, were in cahoots with the local police. In fact, some of the larger, and very legitimate massage places in Dengfeng, were in reality, nondescript and secretive whore houses, all owned and run by the local police. Well, the girls in the karaoke bar upstairs occasionally "worked" with the men of the law, such that, after bringing a foreigner down to his hotel room, after about a half hour of activity, a knock would be heard on the door. The police would have been notified, and of course, would show up to "arrest" the poor unfortunate individual. A bribe of a thousand dollars would be paid to the police, and they would return your passport and let you go. The girl not only made her fee, but took a cut from the local police for setting it all up. Back then, China was one big whore house, that essentially lived behind a wall of smoke and mirrors. It was there, it could be found, but it was risky. For me, maneuvering my little massage girl, Purple Snow, years ago, into the official doc girlfriend, was the easy way to avoid the entire issue.

My trip back to the FengYuan hair salon was full of memories, memories of Purple Snow, of ten or so massage girls, of people getting their hair and nails down, of foot and body massages being given in the back rooms. The memories vanished as I entered the place, to be greeted by two things that really struck me.

No shampoo. Not a hair item to be seen.

And, three young, and fairly attractive Chinese girls, all, quite comically, gazing at themselves in the mirror, fixing every little bit of hair and clothing. I think they call it primping. Birds do it. Whores do it.

It kind of took me by surprise, but I continued with my quest. Purple Snow was nowhere to be seen, and as I had discovered later, she had in the past, retreated to her home village, unmarried, doing whatever girls of that age do when they're alone. There were no clients, no paraphenalia of any sort that made any sort of reference to hair styling or anything associated with that activity, and no massage girls. Just three, kind of cute and harsh looking 19 year old Chinese girls.

In my horrible Mandarin, I asked if massages were still being offered there. The response was quick, direct, and to the point: massage or special service? Massage was 100 Yuan, for one hour, in your room, special service was 300 Yuan for 45 minutes, also, of course, in your room.

I was amazed. And, a bit taken aback. Getting a whore was now a shopping event with a meter attached. Now I had been told by a Chinese girlfriend in Beijing that Chinese men are kind of direct when it comes to that sort of thing, with lovemaking not really involving any sort of foreplay, and the entire event lasting about two minutes. It was kind of like a Disney E ticket ride; pay your price, jump on, ride, get off, get on your way to the next one. And, as I was to observe with Jin Jin the following night, that was exactly what happened.

Jin Jin was this rather cute little 19 year old, who, upon our first meeting, told me that she would love me forever, if I would love and take care of her. Well, that was direct; you usually don't get that sort of communication with American girls. But I knew from the start that she was not the 100 Y massage girl; she was of the 300 Y variety, which, essentially caused me to ignore her. I was there that night for a massage and nothing else. But she played those girlfriend eyes of showing real genuine loving interest, which I knew, would end at the 46th minute. I found the event quite comical, and one night, as I sat in the business center working through the forum on a very slow Chinese computer, I watched Jin Jin walk by, on her way to a room upstairs.

She was back within a half hour. Poor bastard must have gotten his ticket, enjoyed the ride, and left the park without even getting a kiss.

And then, five minutes later, there she was, again, walking by on her way to the hotel rooms upstairs. This time, she was back down within 35 minutes, totally nonplussed, without any sort of expression or personality showing. A half hour later, up she went, yet again.

The whore kingdom was in full swing. The machine was working, moving along with nary a snag, as women went by, up to the rooms, back down to the shampoo less hair salon base. Talk about overt. Just completely out in the open and readily available.

I had to learn more. So a return trip to the hair salon found me face to face with the previous owner, Purple Snow's sister, who used to manage the hair styling part of the hotel. She was now managing a tribe of women, some of whom, the 100 Y girls, who only gave massages, and some of whom, the 300 Y girls, who only did special services. Getting a 300 Y girl to do a massage was just as impossible as getting a 100 Y girl to give you a goodnight kiss. Her tribe consisted of about twenty or thirty girls, which she spread out over two hotels, the FengYuan, and the Shaolin International, who I later discovered was managed by my old manager friend of previous FengYuan times. The girls would run back and forth, depending upon the demand placed by either hotel. Gone were the days of the whores hiding in the shadows of the karaoke bars; gone were the days of singing for a while, drinking, getting to know each other, talking, negotiating, and banging. Now, you got on a phone, called in your request, and a few minutes later, a knock appeared on your door. ****ing becomes big business.

Impressive.

Purple Snow's sister was just a local manager of a small tribe of girls however. There was a big boss, some sort of mafia type guy, who ran a whole slew of these women managers, each of whom managed about twenty to forty girls. The big boss was in cahoots with the local police, and everyone made money. Dengfeng was a happy, profitable, efficient place. The girls were the ones that did all the work; each 300 Y girl gave out about ten E tickets for rides each day, her day starting at 1 PM and ending at 1 AM. She, as well as the 100 Y girl, kept only thirty percent of what she made, the other seventy percent being shared between the woman manager, the big boss, and the police.

Dengfeng. The Happiest Place on Earth.




A ripple across the pond

We had an interesting snag in our production process. To think that events that occur on the other side of the world can impact what you do in China....

I've been working with the Discovery Channel team now for about three weeks, and today, Saturday, our last day in Dengfeng, the culmination of all our work is finally coming to fruition. I've made all the arrangements with my contacts so that their video shoot in two weeks is all arranged. Locations, characters, concepts, it's all in place. I can return to Thailand, and try to spend the next few weeks explaining to my suspicious Thai girlfriend what I've been doing in China.

The journalism visas for these guys was in process back in New York. My travel agent friend there was assisting them with this aspect of the whole production process. The invitation letter I got from Decheng was effective. All seemed to be moving ahead smoothly, without any sort of snags or issues. That is, until last night.

Decheng was a little agitated. He had received a phone call from a local Dengfeng government official, who, in turn had received a phone call from a Foreign Minister in Beijing, about these visas, and Decheng's invitation. Decheng had explained to this government official that I was a long term student of his, who had invited the Discovery Channel here to China to film a production that explored Chinese culture. Decheng was remarkably quick to put together a reasonable explanation for all of this, but I questioned his judgement when it came to invoking my name. I knew from the whole Yongxin thing in years past that the local government was not exactly ready to throw a parade for me, unless it was to a local Chinese prison. But it had turned out that the snag wasn't me.

It was Shi Guolin. In New York.

As the story evolved, I discovered that the government officials in Beijing were concerned that, because the production company originated in New York, and because the visas were being issued to journalists in New York, who, so happened to be desirous of doing a documentary in Shaolin, the documentary was going to be some sort of investigative venture that was looking into some aspect of Guolin's history. The entire embarassing event involving Hengshan's suicide and Guolin's response to it apparently was well known in Beijing. With the upcoming Olympics, and China's desire to improve its image in the world, the event apparently has raised some eyes in the Beijing government, and has apparently, from what I could observe, become a difficult issue to deal with.

What then occurred, was even more surprising. According to Decheng, after speaking with these local government officials, it appears that Guolin has yet another allegedly embarassing issue to deal with; something that has to do with a lot of money, a lot of money to the tune of approximately $350,000. It seems that some women in his area of New York are claiming that Guolin either borrowed or inappropriately managed a great deal of money that was meant for the "USA Shaolin Temple", a misnomer in my opinion. Some of these women are supposedly elderly, some of Chinese descent, and most seem to be associated with Guolin's "temple" in some fashion. From what I could make of the conversation, as it was passed onward, monies that were donated to the temple were misappropriated in some fashion. That may be a nice way of saying "stolen", which was another word which was mentioned during dinner. The entire Guolin conundrum of recent appears to be a sore spot with the Beijing government, to the point where it almost kabashed the Discovery Channel's chances of obtaining journalist visas.

As was also mentioned, this is not "new" news; apparently, it has been in some of the US Chinese newspapers.