Chinese Town Loses Hyperlink to Future   October.10,2005

A remote Chinese village was poised for prosperity after a tycoon introduced it to the Internet. Then fate stepped in. By Ching-Ching Ni, Times Staff Writer

YELLOW SHEEP RIVER, China — This village on the edge of the Gobi desert entered the 21st century much as it had the previous one, with yellow sand blanketing the mountains and poor farmers sharing their mud huts with cows, donkeys and pigs. No homes had running water. No shops sold clothes, just bundles of fabric to be sewn into shirts and pants. Donkey carts plied the dusty main street, rarely troubled by the rumble of a motor. No one in this forgotten section of northwestern China seemed to realize that the nation's east coast was booming or that dot-coms were changing the world. But then, out of the blue, came an idea — and a multimillionaire — that promised to bring prosperity here. High-tech entrepreneur Sayling Wen heard about the village and decided that by harnessing the power of computers, he could beam its 30,000 inhabitants into the Information Age economy. Never mind that the Taiwanese tycoon had never laid eyes on the place. He would turn Yellow Sheep River into China's first "Internet village." "The plan seemed unthinkable, like jade falling from the sky," said local Communist Party secretary Zhang Xusheng. Wen donated 100 new computers and arranged for teachers to be trained. He believed that by teaching computer basics to schoolkids, he could quickly develop a labor force to perform simple tasks for Western high-tech firms looking to outsource work. Next he began building a $50-million, 140-room hotel and convention center in the village, with high-speed Internet connections, state-of-the-art meeting rooms, swimming pool, sauna and even a stable for horse- and camel-back riding. Wen planned to have villagers staff the hotel, and would invite tech-savvy workers from China's east to train others. High-tech executives could use it as an exotic conference locale, and meet Yellow Sheep River's labor pool. The project would spawn more development. Just as things were looking up, Wen dropped dead. Now the people of Yellow Sheep River are at a crossroads, unsure how to move forward without their visionary leader, unwilling to go back to their old way of life. "Just like Mr. Wen used to say, we are a bunch of lonely soldiers," said Chen Ming, the hotel's manager. "All we can do now is press on."

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Perhaps in Yellow Sheep River, Wen saw something of his own beginnings. Or maybe just a chance to make money. The son of a poor Taiwanese family, he did his homework by the light of an oil lamp. He landed a spot at the prestigious National University of Taiwan, then started his own business and became a Bill Gates-like figure in his homeland. His company, Inventec, makes notebook computers, digital cameras and iPods — devices until recently unimaginable in Yellow Sheep River, 700 miles west of Beijing in Gansu province, one of China's poorest. As China welcomed foreign investment in recent decades and became the world's factory, development concentrated on the east coast. In Yellow Sheep River, the average income is $120 a year, a 10th of what east coast city dwellers make. Five years ago, amid growing concern that the gap could spark social unrest, officials in Beijing launched a "Go West" campaign to modernize Gansu and 11 other provinces. But the primary focus has been on huge infrastructure projects such as a west-to-east natural gas pipeline. Still, many experts say it could take 50 to 100 years for the region to catch up to the east. Through a chance encounter at a college reunion in late 2000, Wen heard about Yellow Sheep River and wondered whether he could cut the timetable to 10 years. If the tactic worked there, he planned to replicate it a thousand times throughout the impoverished west. He set up a company, Town & Talent Technologies, and deputized Kenny Lin — his friend and college classmate who first told him about the place — to run it.

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Lin, 58, a mild-mannered Christian, was so overwhelmed by the poverty and deprivation during his first encounter with Yellow Sheep River students that he fought his speechlessness by teaching them to sing "Hallelujah to the Lord." Lin was working for one of Wen's subsidiaries in the eastern city of Tianjin and had heard about the village from a former employee who was volunteering as a teacher there. In October 2000, Lin decided to visit. The middle school, he recalled, was dark and gloomy. There was no library, no music room, no cafeteria. Lunch consisted of hard bread dipped in cold water. Many youngsters dropped out before the seventh grade. The World Wide Web might as well have been in another solar system. He had 11 old computers sent in. The students quickly became comfortable with the mysterious machines the Chinese call dian nao, or electronic brains. Within two months, the school had set up its own website, yellowsheepriver.com, and students sent e-mails to Lin, thanking him for the devices. "I saw a computer for the first time here," said Zheng Haoju, a shy 17-year-old girl. "I like to use it to draw." Lin decided to ship another dozen computers, and offered the school $300 a month of his own money to ensure that students got three hot meals a week. By this time, the youngsters were designing Web pages describing the history, cultural heritage and natural resources of their village. Wang Junyi, 52, who owns a mom-and-pop grocery store across the street, noticed more students coming to school. "A lot of young people here have nothing to do. Many quit school and just stay home," he said. "Computers opened their minds." Soon, the school opened a public Internet cafe and allowed farmers to join computer classes. With the help of the teachers, they checked out prices for fresh produce in the country and around the world. Some wanted to know how much the latest tractor cost and where to buy the best fertilizers and seeds. At one point, when there was a bit of a surplus harvest, the farmers decided to experiment with some e-commerce. Selling online, they made about $9,200 from peas, $2,600 from medicinal herbs and $800 from celery. Once Lin got Wen interested in Yellow Sheep River, the tycoon shipped in 100 additional computers, along with software to train the students in typing and English. Enrollment doubled in a year to 600 students, Lin said.

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But the real giddiness set in when Wen made his first visit in April 2002 to break ground for the hotel. As many as 10,000 farmers came to meet the miracle maker. Some walked more than 10 miles, others rode horses. The nimble climbed trees for a better view. The sound of drums and gongs filled the early spring air. Wearing a dark suit and tie, the round-faced and solidly built Wen showed visiting Chinese officials a model of the hotel. He cut ribbons and helped shovel dirt. He posed for the cameras. "I'm investing in Yellow Sheep River and building a five-star hotel and Internet village because I want to turn Yellow Sheep River into a knowledge-based economy fit for the 21st century," Wen told the crowd. "My hope is that you no longer have to leave home to find work. As long as you come here to the Internet village, you can create wealth, you can change your life and you can preserve your traditional culture." For the poorly educated people here who find it hard to see past the next rainless day, Wen's lofty plans were appealing. Li Yuemei, 48, an illiterate peasant, helped mix cement for the hotel. Her husband and son worked on the construction site. They each made nearly $400. "Everybody worked on the hotel," Li said. "I wish the construction would last longer so we can earn more money." "It's the first hotel I've ever seen," said Yu Kaike, a 68-year-old villager who wore an old blue Mao jacket and oversize round spectacles. His wife's bound feet also hearkened back to a bygone era. "I've never left my home town before," he said. "I am glad they built it. I wish people will come here and help make this place rich." Just as Wen predicted, the hotel project had something of a trailblazing effect. The Chinese government took notice. It improved local roads and officially upgraded Yellow Sheep River from a village to a town, planting trees and encouraging tourism. The government even put up a billboard on a main road to direct passing motorists to the "Internet Village." A big gas station opened under the sign. Merchants came to build shops and homes. They brought small appliances, fresh fruit and clothing to sell, bolstering the town's previously anemic commercial life. As construction progressed, local youths began training for hotel jobs answering phones, checking audio systems, changing sheets and serving Western cuisine. They worked alongside the experienced chefs and managers brought in from big cities. "With my background and level of education, it's hard to find a good job in the big city," said Zhao Xiaoping, 25, who with his high school diploma is considered one of the best-educated people in town. He was hired as a room service attendant. "Most of my schoolmates are away working as manual laborers." But in December 2003, before the hotel was complete, Wen suffered a stroke and died in Taiwan. He was 53. Suddenly, the whole grand plan was thrown into doubt. Though Wen hadn't been living in Yellow Sheep River, everyone knew his force of will was driving the ambitious project. Hundreds of villagers turned up for a memorial service, despondent over losing their best hope to change their way of life.

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For nearly a year, the hotel sat unfinished. The outer shell was built but the inside was without fixtures or even floors. Finally, Wen's brothers chipped in the money to complete construction. Early this year, it was ready for guests, but there was no grand opening, no parade of dignitaries, no influx of well-heeled conventioneers. The hotel has hosted a few Taiwanese tourist groups and conferences for Wen's companies, but mostly it sits empty. Many of the staff members from the big cities have left. Those who remain worry that their days are numbered. They kill time by splashing around in the pool and downing nearly expired beer from the stockroom. Equally vacant is the Internet cafe at the school. "Catching up with the east in 10 years is a little difficult to do now," said teacher Hu Wanglong, 30, sitting in the otherwise empty cafe. "Our economy is too backward. With Mr. Wen gone, our progress will definitely slow down." According to Hu, only 10 people have visited the cafe this year. The town's website still advertises locally grown mushrooms, but Hu said they aren't really selling anymore. The only thing that still attracts customers is a ginseng-like dried root used in traditional medicine. But it grows in tiny quantities and is hard to propagate on a large scale. Hu tries to look on the bright side. Before, his school had no computers and no one to teach about them. Now it has 140 desktops and 1,300 students, who are learning about Windows, Word, PowerPoint and search engines. "Before, people here thought the computer was a high-tech machine far removed from their lives," Hu said. "We helped demystify that concept. They now know the computer is no different from the TV or radio. It can be helpful to their everyday life." After the initial shock of Wen's death, Lin is stepping out of the shadow of his former classmate to try to salvage the dream. But he knows he is essentially starting from scratch. "Mr. Wen wrote himself into the original business model," Lin said. "Our job now is to retain his old vision, redesign and refocus." Lin jettisoned anything that relied on Wen's connections or cash. He spun off the hotel to a new company. He gave up on the idea of school-based global outsourcing. He is focusing on the village's most abundant resource: cheap labor. From his base in Tianjin, Lin is seeking jobs for western peasants at eastern restaurant chains, factories and hotels. He's teaming up with local entrepreneurs in Gansu to recruit residents to fill the jobs he finds. The entrepreneurs are setting up small "digital centers" with one or two computers, using the Internet to communicate with Lin and show job applicants video clips of prospective work sites, factory dormitories and cafeterias. They earn a commission for each job filled. Feng Zhicai, 67, dropped into one of the centers looking for work for his 24-year-old grandson. Manager Gao Yanbin, 47, showed him a video about a shoe factory in southern Guangdong province to which 140 villagers have gone this year. "I've never seen a computer before. Young people tell me it can do many things, like count money. I didn't realize you can watch it like a TV," he said. So with the birth of the digital center, area residents are turning to the Internet again, though not in the way Wen imagined. Instead of using it to draw opportunity to Yellow Sheep River, they are using it to seek opportunities elsewhere. "I hear the east coast needs at least 3 million workers a year. The west has that. And nobody is tapping into this. We can," Lin said. "If we can plant 1,000 seeds, 10 years from now western China will definitely be a different place."

（倪青青,《洛杉矶时报》记者）

　　　一个偏僻的中国乡村被一位企业家引入互联网，正当它准备腾飞的时候，不幸从天而降... ...

　　中国黄羊川，一个戈壁沙漠边缘的乡村，在进入21世纪后和原先没有什么两样。黄土覆盖着山峦，贫困农民居住的土坯房屋紧挨着牲口圈，家里没有自来水，商店里没有成衣可卖，只有买回布料缝制衣裤。驴车往来于满是尘土的街道，罕有机动车的轰鸣打破宁静。
　　在这个中国西北被遗忘的角落，似乎没有人意识到东部沿海地区的飞速发展和网络带给世界的变化，然而突然间，一位富商带来了让这里致富的观念。
　　温世仁，一位高科技行业的企业家，当他听说了黄羊川的故事，决定用计算机引领当地的3万村民进入经济信息时代。地区的书记张绪胜说：“这个计划简直不可思议，好像天上掉馅饼”。
　　温先生捐赠给当地100台计算机并且安排了教师的培训。他相信通过给学生传授计算机基础知识，能迅速发挥当地的人力资源优势，为那些仰赖于远距雇用的西方高科技公司做一些简单的服务工作。
　　接着，他开始在村里建造一座价值500万美元、有140间客房的酒店和会议中心，那里有宽带互联网，多功能会议厅，游泳池，桑拿房，甚至还有供游客骑马骑骆驼的设施。
　　他打算让村民在会议中心工作，还准备从中国东部聘请熟练技工来培训他们。高科技公司的老总们可以利用这个别有特色的会议场所，了解黄羊川的人力资源，这个项目将发挥巨大效益。
　　正当一切顺利进行之际，温世仁溘然长逝。
　　现在，黄羊川人民失去了引领他们实现梦想的人，站在十字路口不知何去何从，但他们不愿再退回到往日的生活。
　　会议中心的总监陈明说：“如同温先生所说，我们是一群孤独的战士，我们现在所能做的一切就是坚持”。
　　在黄羊川，或许温世仁看到了他过去生活的影子，或许他看到了商机。他，一个台湾贫困家庭的儿子，曾就着煤油灯的光亮做作业；他就读于台湾一所著名大学，之后又像比尔.盖茨一样在他的家乡开始了经商生涯。
　　他的英业达公司，从制造笔记本电脑、数码相机和移动硬盘设备直到构想了这个不可思议的黄羊川计划，并实施于北京以西1800公里的、甘肃省的一个国家级贫困县。
　　中国近十年来吸引外资，集中发展东部沿海，使之成为了世界的加工厂。然而在黄羊川，人均收入仅仅120美元/年，只有东部城市居民的十分之一。
　　五年前，考虑到东西部差距可能会成为社会不安定因素，中国政府制定了一个使甘肃和其他十一个省区实现现代化的“西部开发”战略计划。但是最初开发的重点集中在诸如“西气东输”等基础设施的建设上。
　　一个偶然的机会，在2000年底的同学聚会上，温世仁听说了黄羊川，并考虑能否用十年的时间改变它。如果方案可行，他计划在贫困的西部农村复制一千个黄羊川模式。他成立了千乡万才科技（中国）有限公司，并派他的朋友和同学林光信——第一个告诉他黄羊川故事的人，去做公司的法人代表。
　　林光信，58岁，一个温文尔雅的基督徒，当他第一次和黄羊川的学生相遇时，这里的贫穷和匮乏使他非常震惊。本不善言谈的他竟教这些学生唱起“哈利路亚”。
　　林光信就职于温世仁在东部城市天津的一家分公司，他是从去黄羊川志愿支教的、以前他的一个雇员那里，听说了这个乡村。2000年10月，他决定去黄羊川拜访。
　　林回忆说，那个中学光线昏暗、阴冷，没有图书馆，没有音乐教室，没有自助餐厅。午餐是干硬的馍馍就凉水。许多孩子在初一就辍学了。网络对他们来说简直像天外来客。
　　他捐送了十一台旧计算机。学生们很快就熟悉了这些叫作电脑的神秘机器，在两个月内，学校就建起了自己的网站——[url]www.yellowsheepriver.com[/url]，学生们发邮件给林光信，感谢他所做的一切。
　　“我在这里第一次见到计算机”，一个叫郑好菊（音）的17岁的女孩腼腆地说，“我喜欢用它来画画”。
　　林光信决定再捐送十二台计算机，并且每月从他的工资中拿出300美元，以保证学生们每周能吃到三顿热汤饭。到现在，孩子们已经可以设计网页来描述自己家乡的历史、文化遗产和自然资源了。
　　王俊义（音），52岁，在黄羊川街心什字经营一家杂货店，他注意到有更多的学生回到学校。他说：“这里的很多年轻人没有事可做，许多人离开学校待在家里，是电脑使他们大开眼界”。
　　不久，学校开放了公共网吧，邀请农民们参加电脑培训。在老师的帮助下，农民们为销售他们当年的农产品查询国内外价格，还有人想知道最新的拖拉机售价以及在哪儿能买到最好的种子和化肥。
　　那年收成不错，农民们决定尝试一下在线销售。他们共卖掉了价值9200美元的豌豆，2600美元的中草药以及800美元的芹菜。
　　林光信说：自从温世仁开始关注黄羊川，他捐赠了100台计算机以及教学生学英语练打字的软件，一年内入学的学生翻了一番，达到600人。
　然而真正让人瞠目的是2002年4月，温世仁第一次到访黄羊川，为会议中心破土动工剪彩。多达一万名的村民前来看望这位奇迹的创造者。许多人步行几十公里，还有些人骑着马来。为了看得更清楚，身手敏捷的人还爬到树上，锣鼓声响彻在黄羊川初春的上空。
　　温世仁身着深色西装打着领带、有一张令人信任的圆圆的脸，他向前来参观的政府官员们展示会议中心的模型。他剪开缎带并铲下奠基的第一锨泥土。他的这个动作被摄影师拍了下来。
　　“我正在黄羊川投资建造一个五星级的会议中心和网络城乡，我希望黄羊川进入21世纪的知识经济时代”，温世仁向群众说，“我希望你们不再外出务工，到那时你们来网络城乡工作，就地创造财富，就地改善生活，就地保持文化”。这些被雨水捉弄、没有多少文化的人们，被温世仁描绘的理想蓝图所吸引。
　　李月梅（音），48岁，一个没有念过书的农民，她的丈夫和儿子在建筑工地工作，她也帮忙搅拌水泥。他们每人能挣到近400美元。“人人都在工地上工作”，李说，“我希望工期延长，那样我们能赚到更多的钱”。
　　穿着一件旧蓝色毛式制服、戴着一副石头墨镜的68岁村民于凯科（音）说：“这是我所见到的第一座宾馆，我从来没有离开过家乡，建宾馆让我很高兴，我希望人们能来到这儿，帮助建设这个地方”。他的老伴缠着小脚，遗留着旧时代的印迹。
　　正如温世仁所预言的，建设项目产生了效应。政府开始关注，当地的道路状况被改善了，黄羊川由乡升格为镇，植树造林并鼓励旅游观光业的发展。政府甚至在国道边一个大加油站旁竖起了“网络城乡”的广告牌。商人们动手开商店建住宅，他们带进来一些小家电、新鲜水果和服装销售，带起这个镇子初级的商业活动。
　　随着工程的进展，当地的年轻人开始为酒店工作接受培训，他们接听电话、调试音响设备、换洗床单、烹调西式菜肴，他们在来自大城市的有经验的厨师和管理人员身边工作。
　　25岁的赵小平（音），有着受人尊重的高中文凭，是镇上受过最好教育的人之一。他受雇于客房服务，“以我的背景和学历，我很难在大城市找到工作，我的大部分同学都外出打工了”，他说。
　　然而在2003年12月，会议中心尚未竣工，温世仁却因病在台湾辞世，享年55岁。霎时间，整个计划被搁置了。虽然温世仁没有在黄羊川生活过，但是每一个人都知道他推进这个雄心勃勃计划的魄力。数百村民参加了悼念活动。失去了改变生活方式的希望，他们笼罩在一片沮丧之中。
　　工期拖了将近一年，建筑封顶了但内部还没有装修。最终，由温氏兄弟出资完成了工程。今年年初开始了试营业，没有盛大的场面，没有达官贵人的捧场，没有穿着考究的与会代表。会议中心仅仅接待了为数不多的台湾旅行团和英业达公司的会议，但大部分时间都空着。许多从大城市来的员工都离开了，那些留下来的人也耽心他们的日子屈指可数。他们在游泳池戏水，喝着仓库里快要过期的啤酒来打发时间，而校园网吧也空闲着。
　　“按目前的情况，在10年内赶上东部是有些困难，我们的经济太落后了。温先生走后，我们的发展会慢下来”。在另一间空着的网络教室里，30岁的胡万龙老师说。按照他的说法，今年仅有10人光顾过校园网吧。当地网站仍然在登载地产蘑菇的广告，但胡老师说，他们不指望能卖出去多少。只有传统的中草药冬虫夏草对客户依然有吸引力。但是它的产量很小，大面积种植是不可能的。
　　胡老师还是乐观的，以前，他的学校没有计算机，也没有人能讲授计算机课程。现在有140台台式机和1300名学生，他们学习windows系统，word文档、ppt幻灯文件，研究并应用它们。胡老师说：“以前，村里人认为计算机是个高科技的东西，距离他们的生活很遥远，是我们揭开了它神秘的面纱，现在，人们知道它和电视机、收音机差不多，它对人们的生活是有帮助的”。
　　在经受了温世仁逝世之初的打击之后，林光信渐渐走出了阴影，并竭力实现着温世仁的梦想。但是他很清楚，实际上他要从头再来。“温先生创建了他独特的商业模式”，林说，“我们现在的工作是保留他的设想，重新规划和调整”。
　　林光信放弃了所有要依靠温氏家族投资的项目，并将酒店业务从公司分离出来。他放弃了会员学校作为全球远距雇用基地的想法，并把重点转移到农村充裕的劳动力资源上来。
　　在公司的天津办事处，他们为西部农民在东部的餐饮连锁店、工厂和酒店寻找工作机会，与甘肃的企业家们合作，招募员工去东部工作。
　　这些企业家们创建了小型的“数码中心”，只有一到两台电脑，他们在网上与林光信交流，向求职者播放工厂车间、宿舍和自助餐厅的实景录像，他们只收取很少的报名费。
　　碰巧在数码中心遇到一个67岁的冯志财（音）老汉，为他24岁的孙子找工作。高延滨经理（47岁）给他播放了南方广东省一个鞋厂的录像资料，今年他们已向那里输送了140名工人。
　　老汉说，“我以前从来没见过电脑，年轻人告诉我电脑能干好多事，好像它能数钱。我还不知道用它也能看电视”。
　　随着数码中心的诞生，当地居民又开始求助于网络。与温世仁设想的方式不同，他们没有在黄羊川找到工作机会，却利用网络在其他地方找到了机会。
　　林光信说：“我知道东部沿海地区每年至少有300万个用工需求，西部有这些资源。没有人去发掘这些资源，但我们能做。如果我们能建立1000个数码中心，10后中国西部肯定会大为改观”。

黄羊川国际会议中心远眺（图片提供：一波）
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备注：此报道采访于2005年5月初。
一波花了两个半晚上的时间，终于翻译完了