This is the story of Li Zhou Lai. An elderly man who refuses to leave Shanghai until he finds his missing grandson. I wrote this article on May 7th for my journalism class, but I still think of Li and his story and feel like I can still help him by continuing to share his story.
SHANGHAI — There’s a homeless man who sits outside of Family Mart—two legs perched on a black staircase, shaking a bright cerulean blue cup. Unlike the homeless lady who also begs there— he doesn’t say much.
She flashes her deep yellow teeth and harasses people with her crinkled cup. He blank stares across the street and murmurs “xiexie” (the Mandarin term for “thank you”) when a stream of cast silver coins hits the bottom of his container.
A freshman student told me that the “homeless woman who stands outside of Family Mart” is pretty friendly and easy to talk to. Since I had always seen her during my late night trips to Coco (the bubble tea restaurant next door), I decided to interview her.
On Monday night, my friend, Rachel, and I, went to Zaoyang Road looking for the homeless woman. Rachel attended the Chinese American International School—one of the oldest Chinese English dual language schools in the country for nine years and said she could be my translator.
When we arrived, the woman wasn’t there. Pressed for time, I decided to interview the homeless man instead. The only thing is…he’s not homeless.
Li Zhou Lai is from Henan province—one of the largest provincial economies in China. In early March, the former oil worker came to Shanghai with his grandson. While at Jinshajiang station, he told his grandson to wait for him while he went to the grocery store. When he came back, his grandson was gone. For two months, the 10 year old boy has been missing.
“I’m not going back home until I find him. If I go back home without him, no one will be happy” said Li.
The 65 year old has one daughter and a son who lives in Sichuan, a province located in southwest China. The missing child is his son’s son and his only grandchild. Li also has a wife.
Before we could ask him any questions, he pulled out a picture of his grandson and a crinkled missing child’s report. Li carries all of his paperwork with him in a black coin purse.
He has gone to the Shanghai police station multiple times after the incident, but they keep telling him to come back. He’s also tried searching for his grandson on the internet.
His family has given up. Li’s son is in Sichuan and the elderly man is the only one still searching for the boy. But even he’s lost hope— “I don’t think they’ll find him, it’s already been two months.”
While sitting there, two foreigners on a black set of stairs, in front of Family Mart, we draw in a large crowd. One woman sits behind us and helps Rachel translate. Passersby stare at us with confusion and curiosity. “Why are a dark skin woman and a young lady who looks Chinese, recording and jotting down notes about a frail Chinese man in tattered garments?”— they’re probably wondering.
Li has no intention of going home. His hope is that by begging, he can get enough money to convince Shanghai officials to do a more thorough investigation of his missing grandson.
He understands that Chinese society is heavily influenced by “guan xi” (connections and relationships) and “face” (social status and prestige). And that a disheveled man with no money has little to no chance of getting things done, especially in a country filled with missing children.
In an article titled, “China’s Missing Children,” Foreign policy reporter, Charles Cluster stated that as many as 70,000 Chinese children may be kidnapped a year. That number largely has to do with China’s one-child policy. Many families, especially those that aren’t able to have a son or a daughter, abduct lost children and raise them as their own.
Twelve minutes into our conversation, the woman helping us translate, gets up and leaves. She comes back with 300 RMB (48.79 USD) and hands it to the man.
To lighten the air, we asked Li Zhou Lai what his happiness moment was. He replied, “When I was eating.” The man was hungry and willing to eat anything.
While him and Rachel chatted some more, I walked into Family Mart, grabbed two sandwiches, a bag of banana chips and water and handed it to him.
“I’m going to miss you when you go back to America,” he told Rachel and me.
He’s not homeless.
By ODERA OKANEME
Published: May 16, 2013