Reeds 'n paar jaar terug lees ek 'n artikel in 'n boek oor Openbaring van die nuwe belangstelling in Spiritualiteit in China. Na jare van kommunistiese regering toe kerk-lidmate gely het onder vervolging of 'n versigtige verhouding met die magshebbers moes nastreef, was daar die tye van ekonomiese voorspoed toe nuwe vryer godsdienstige bewegings, veral charismaties, opgebloei het. En nou, met al die voorspoed en al die ywerige godsdiens, sit sommige Chinese met 'n onvergenoegde innerlike. Hulle soek na lewenssin. En hulle vind dit in Spiritualiteit.
By die kongres hier in Baltimore, val dit my op hoedat verskeie groepe besig is om al hoe dieper betrokke te raak by die implikasie van 'n mens se historiese oortuiginge in 'n nuwe tyd.
Dit is asof al die ou, tipiese vrae vanuit 'n historiese hoek, skielik in 'n ander rigting beweeg. Ons weet nou soveel van die geskiedenis, maar wat daarvan?
Hoe verander dit ons?
Vanoggend se New York Times vertel die storie van China se soeke na die diepere vanuit 'n ander hoek. Hier is die eerste paragrawe.
DALI, China — A typical morning for Lin Liya, a native of Shanghai transplanted to this ancient town in southwest China, goes like this: See her 3-year-old son off to school near the mountains; go for a half-hour run on the shores of Erhai Lake; and browse the local market for fresh vegetables and
By die kongres hier in Baltimore, val dit my op hoedat verskeie groepe besig is om al hoe dieper betrokke te raak by die implikasie van 'n mens se historiese oortuiginge in 'n nuwe tyd.
Dit is asof al die ou, tipiese vrae vanuit 'n historiese hoek, skielik in 'n ander rigting beweeg. Ons weet nou soveel van die geskiedenis, maar wat daarvan?
Hoe verander dit ons?
Vanoggend se New York Times vertel die storie van China se soeke na die diepere vanuit 'n ander hoek. Hier is die eerste paragrawe.
DALI, China — A typical morning for Lin Liya, a native of Shanghai transplanted to this ancient town in southwest China, goes like this: See her 3-year-old son off to school near the mountains; go for a half-hour run on the shores of Erhai Lake; and browse the local market for fresh vegetables and
Song Yan, 31, held a meeting of a book club in the
cafe bookstore, Song’s Nest, she opened in Dali in the spring.
She finished her run one morning beneath cloudless blue skies and sat
down with a visitor from Beijing in the lakeside boutique hotel started
by her and her husband.
“I think luxury is sunshine, good air and good water,” she said. “But in the big city, you can’t get those things.”
More than two years ago, Ms. Lin, 34, and her husband gave up
comfortable careers in the booming southern city of Guangzhou — she at a Norwegian company,
he at an advertising firm that he had founded — to join the growing
number of urbanites who have decamped to rural China. One resident here
calls them “environmental refugees” or “environmental immigrants.”
At a time when hundreds of millions of Chinese, many poor farmers, are leaving their country homeste
to find work and tap into the energy of China’s dynamic cities, a small
number of urban dwellers have decided to make a reverse migration.
Their change in lifestyle speaks volumes about anxieties over pollution,
traffic, living costs, property values and the general stress found in
China’s biggest coastal metropolises.
Take air quality: Levels of fine particulate matter in some Chinese cities reach 40 times
the recommended exposure limit set by the World Health Organization.
This month, an official Chinese news report said an 8-year-old girl near Shanghai was hospitalized with lung cancer, the youngest such victim in China. Her doctor blamed air pollution.
The urban refugees come from all walks of life — businesspeople and
artists, teachers and chefs — though there is no reliable estimate of
their numbers. They have staked out greener lives in small enclaves,
from central Anhui Province to remote Tibet. Many are Chinese bobos, or
bourgeois bohemians, and they say that besides escaping pollution and
filth, they want to be unshackled from the material drives of the cities
— what Ms. Lin derided as a focus on “what you’re wearing, where you’re
eating, comparing yourself with others.”