A journalist's diary

By Alice Xiang (China Daily)
Updated: 2008-09-12 09:55

Antonio Fernandez Arce, still vibrant at 77, evokes a Beijing that feels worlds apart from the city's present-day incarnation.

Seated in a quiet room in Beijing's Peruvian embassy, a place that Arce himself helped establish, the spick-and-span septuagenarian is impeccably dressed. He is accompanied by his Chinese wife, Hu Weiling, 48, and his Peru-born son Antonio Fernandez Hu, 19, who lives in Beijing and studies international relations at Peking University.

As Arce recounts, he first arrived in this city 48 years ago, a curious young journalist from Trujillo, Peru. That was the year 1960, when Mao Zedong was at the nation's helm, and before China even had a Peruvian embassy.

Arce began to work for the Peruvian embassy in China in 1971, and was a witness to the growing diplomatic relationship between the two countries.

Antonio Fernandez Arce with his son Antonio Fernandez Hu and Chinese wife Hu Weiling at his Beijing home. [Photos courtesy of Antonio Fernandez Arce]

Two years later, he quit to return to Peru to resume his journalistic career. But his association with China did not come to an end. Over the past few decades, he has traveled frequently between China and Peru - living mostly in China and working for various newspapers.

He worked as a copy editor for Xinhua News Agency from 1982 to 1995 and since 2003 has been a consultant for a Spanish-language channel of CCTV.

When he first arrived, "all foreign journalists in Beijing were on very close terms with high-ranking (Chinese Communist Party) officials," says Arce. Already a prominent journalist in South America at the age of 28, Arce was one of a small group of foreign reporters invited to China. He became directly involved in building China-Peru relations from scratch.

An exceptional friendship, with a distinctly unceremonious beginning, soon blossomed between him and Premier Zhou Enlai. They met during Arce's heady first trip into exclusive Zhongnanhai, where the top Party officials lived and worked.

When Arce heard the Chinese Premier was present, he asked if he could possibly meet him. A nearby translator exclaimed: "But you already have!" Puzzled, Arce denied this until the translator explained: "Remember the man who opened your car door for you when you got here? That was Premier Zhou." The surprised Arce immediately sought out Zhou, and the two struck up a friendship on the spot.

Another cherished memory of Zhou, from 1970, involves a much less light-hearted affair. Arce was busy translating highly classified documents and temporarily barred from any communication with the outside world. At this time, his 13-day-old daughter, Flor de Maria, became afflicted with leukemia.

When this piece of news made its way to Premier Zhou, he immediately ordered the best doctor in the People's Liberation Army (PLA) to attend to Arce's baby daughter. He also asked some of the PLA's strongest men to donate blood, and Flor de Maria was cured after numerous blood transfusions. She is now 38 and works as a lawyer in Peru. "For her life, thanks must go to the Premier," reflects Arce.

These episodes, brought to life by Arce, depict a bygone diplomatic era: a period when relations between China and many countries were just being forged, often by a mere handful of people. A profound depth of feeling often lay behind diplomatic ties and Arce speaks fondly of his Chinese "good friends", such as one fellow who valiantly attempted to breed Peruvian lemons in Beijing (to little success).

Today Arce notes that much has changed. For example, the little stalls and eateries that once lined the streets of Beijing, where one could grab a bite of classic local fare the "old Beijing way", have almost all disappeared.

He also laments the now nonexistent roadside theaters, offering Peking opera and other types of traditional performances, which he once enjoyed frequenting. "You could always see everyday folk gathered around to watch," he recalls.

In the Beijing of the 1960s and 70s, Arce recollects that "by 6 or 7 o'clock at night, all the stores would be closed and very few people would be out and about". Beijing is now a bona fide metropolis-that-never-sleeps. There was also astonishingly little crime, to the point where "if someone found money in the street, they would go and hand it in to the police".

"China was like an example for the West," Arce recalls, mentioning the ambitious planned economy, and the simplicity and frugality of the Chinese lifestyle. Naturally, he says, much of that has changed, as is inevitable in the process of modernization.

Arce particularly admires one of Deng Xiaoping's metaphors for its succinct accuracy in describing China's paradox of progress: "When you open the door, you let in fresh air, but you also let in flies."

"Flies" and all, Beijing's infrastructure and quality of life have seen undeniable improvement. When he first arrived, Arce recalls, Beijing had yet to install a sewage system. "Back then only the Forbidden City had proper sewers," he smiles.

And now, whenever Arce passes by some of Beijing's most bustling areas, such as Xidan and Wangfujing, he cannot help but notice the many smiling faces, which is "part of the huge progress that has been made."

But what is it exactly that has drawn Arce to China for so long? "The sheer determination of the people here," he replies without hesitation.

Arce is also deeply interested in Chinese culture. He has long been enamored of China's history and literature, and he has written on subjects ranging from Genghis Khan to the classic novel, A Dream of the Red Mansions. Arce is currently working on two commissioned books about China.

China is where Arce met his wife, Hu Weiling. At that time, foreign journalists were housed in Beijing's Friendship Hotel, and Beijing born-and-bred Hu just happened to live across the way.

Hu's eyes brighten with an affectionate enthusiasm when asked which Peruvian dishes Arce likes most.

"Ceviche," Hu responds immediately. "Raw fish prepared with lemon." As for Chinese food, bean sprouts and xiangsuji (fried savory chicken) rank among Arce's favorites.

Naturally, food isn't the only thing he misses about Peru. Arce has relatives there whom he thinks about often, and he says the country is also blessed with a beautiful climate and fabulous natural diversity.

Arce stands as the interview wraps up, courteous as ever. Then he breaks into one of his smiles. It's easy to imagine this same smile, lighting up a corner of a meeting-room, and causing officials to take notice of a South American country called Peru.