The Door to Asia, 1937

Down down down down down down down down. One seldom thinks of China and yet their artificial waterways would reach nine times around the earth or a distance of 225,000 miles. The first original section of the Grand Canal was started by a king of the Shuy dynasty whose extravagant queen wanted to make a water void southward. So he built her a canal. One case where the woman didn't pay. It might be said that the Chinese are the hardest working people in the world. Their lives are devoted almost entirely to manual labor. Although primitive, this method of carrying city water in northern China has been followed for generations. They do not know the temperature in China by the thermometer. It's a one suit day or a two suit day or in freezing weather a six suit day. Interesting if they reverse this system in the summertime. During the winter months, picturesque strings of dramadaries from the far wilds of Mongolia beyond the Gobi Desert bring furs and coal to the China markets in exchange for bricks of tea. These tea bricks are taken back and mixed with mayor's milk to be eaten as soup by the targets. Remember Lamb's famous story of how a China first learned to roast a pig? One was caught in a burning house. Result, roast pork without the applesauce. At that time, it was against the law in China to kill a pig. But many houses were mysteriously burned down and a roast pig was always found in the ruins. While the camels are resting, the camel pullers visit the markets. Here they buy rare delicacies. See cucumbers, lotus seeds, toasted beetles, 100year-old eggs. Confidentially, they've only been pickled about 19 years. But even at that age, an egg can be quite ripe. Ah, a Chinese funeral. Must have eaten a fresh egg. When one shoulder tires, they quick shift to the other. Hurry up and the corpse goes merrily on its way. In China, a coffin is quite the proper gift to give an aged parent. Sounds like a gentle hint, but it must be loved. The toiling coolies are indifferent to weddings and funerals alike. 100 men to do the work of one machine that all may live. These men belong to a union called a guild. And would you believe it, union labor is more completely organized in China than in any other country in the world. Outside the city are miles and miles of narrow paths especially built for wheelbarrows for long distances over these roads. Each man pushes a double load. This cobbler is making shoes for the ladies of the bound feet. Binding was originated by an empress who had club feet. I wonder if it was the emperor's idea. An old Chinese proverb says a hobbled horse cannot stray. She bound her feet in yellow satin. And some poet has affectionately called them golden liies. But bound feet were never meant for work and are now prohibited. These women are making cotton cloth. No other country in the world uses as much cotton as China. As Dr. Fang once said, add 1 in to the shirt tail of each Chinese and the cotton mills of the world would work overtime. They've been using this same method of spinning and weaving for a thousand years. And tens of thousands of these hand looms are weaving every day. Their wage is so low that handwoven cloth is often cheaper than that made by machine. In many districts, the weavers are paid as low as a dollar for 200 yards of cloth. And yet, they are a happy lot. Hard work and simple food keeps them well and strong. And many of them reach the century mark with smiling faces. They live off the land and with primitive way of irrigation and a method of fertilizing which in China is so intense that even hair combings and nail pairings go into the soil. The Chinese have produced crops in this same ground for over 4,000 years. And when the grain is ripe, it takes the entire family to grind a little rice. Picture the modern housewife doing this setting up exercise to make a little cereal. They'd better grind faster if they want to keep up with that chicken on the left. Rice and fish. And these coral ant birds do the fishing. They are born in captivity and when very young are trained on minnows. Each bird is worth $5, a fortune. They are tied to the boats like so many galley slaves and lead a monotonous existence. Their masters always keep them hungry. Instinct prompts them to dive for a fish. But when a hungry bird catches one, a ring around its neck prevents it from swallowing, and the fisherman promptly takes away the fish. Darn clever, these Chinese, or else the birds must be stupid to catch fish they cannot swallow. This commonant labor is the only thing in China that is not organized. If it were, the birds would certainly call a strike. However, when the day's work is over, if the comrade has turned in a goodly catch, the fisherman usually gives him one. Generous fellow, and so it goes, month after month. A quick getaway, and the race for a good spot at the fishing grounds is on. One very convenient thing about a Chinese dinner is that you can eat it anywhere. Deep bowls are used to keep the food hot. Each one owns his own bowl. And chopsticks make very good shovels. Lucky thing for this youngster that chopsticks have no splinters. You may not know it, but they're eating on the One can hardly believe that this beautiful countryside dotted with peaceful canals is now the scene of war and bloodshed. Through countless generations, nations have conquered China and have been absorbed and lost in that vast country that stretches across the face of Asia. These simple people are again being forced to leave their ancestral lands. Advancing armies are scattering them to the four winds as they abandon their farms. The sound of marching feet and the rattle of gunfire ever ringing in their ears. Is our lot not hard enough? They say, "Have we offended the gods that we should be uprooted and torn from our homes by a war we do not understand?" Across their country stalks that monster, greed, despoiling, plundering, killing until driven to extremity, China's sons stand with their backs to the Great War. That symbol of China's defiance to invaders that has withtood the storms of centuries of strife may again mark China's independence. In the words of the great Chinese poet, in Gobi's waste, invading hordes prevail, and back to the wall the sons of China tread. [Music]