Fifty years ago, on a sultry day in August, I headed to Beijing, China’s capital, from Hong Kong on my first assignment to the country as a junior diplomat. There were no direct flights from Hong Kong, then still a British colony, to Beijing. One had to cross over, on foot, from the border village of Lowu to the Chinese side via a rickety wooden bridge across a stream. From Lowu, a local train took passengers to Guangzhou, from where one could either fly to Beijing or take a train. Lowu was in the middle of green fields of paddy,
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