Word: honan
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...root of China's farm problem is not maldistribution of land, but the fact that there is not enough land to feed the people as long as the land is worked by present methods, which will take years to change. For example, after land was redistributed in Honan province, the per capita holding was only six-tenths of an acre. Disillusionment over land reform had certainly given rise to much peasant resentment, contributed heavily to guerrilla activity, especially in south China...
...Wilson Fielder knew the Far East as well as he did his own country: China was his first home. The son of U.S. Baptist missionaries, he was born in Cheng-chow, learned to speak Chinese as he learned English. After grade and high school at American schools in Honan Province, he went to the U.S. to college, studied journalism and history at Texas' Baylor University, in due time broke into the newspaper business as a reporter on the Waco News-Tribune...
...Kaifeng, capital of Honan province, the Communist take-over was peaceful. A U.S. woman missionary said "they came in, fired into the air and told Nationalist soldiers to lay down their arms. Civilians were told to go home-'walk, don't run.' " Commissars posted a bill of rights. One clause provided "freedom of thought and religion." Food was brought in and prices went down. Before the new policy was introduced, ton chang (the people's court) was dreaded by many middle-class Chinese. The Reds admitted regretfully that "in some places landlord and rich peasant elements...
...Chengchow, a rail junction for east-west and north-south traffic in Honan, two Shanghai cotton brokers reported "all was quiet." Their warehouse of cotton had been untouched by the Communists. Said a Red officer: "When the kettle belonged to Chiang, we tried to break it; now that it is ours, we want to preserve...
...Under the arching roof of Nanking's new railroad station thousands of unwashed, penniless students from Honan and Shantung are camped on the dirty cement floor, waiting for a train to resettle them somewhere below the Yangtze. One plays a forlorn tune on a two-stringed Chinese violin. Others huddle beneath filthy grey quilts, while streams of noisy, heavy-laden travelers flow around them. The pump is their lavatory. Their guardian, the Education Ministry, can feed them only one rice meal daily-usually around midnight...