Reporting In China

By CBS News Asia correspondent Barry Petersen

Of course, there are plenty of regulations that are printed. But in the real world, the one on the street where news takes place and we try and cover it, foreign journalists are handled much the way everyone else in China is handled - at the whim of the highest-ranking person standing in front of you.

Sometimes the encounters between foreign journalists and local officials, especially in the provinces, can end in violence, beatings and time spent in a jail.

You just never know how it's going to turn out. Let's take a case in point.

We wanted to do a story about pollution in China, especially in one small town that calls itself the leather capital of China. As you can imagine, the tanning of leather uses massive and dangerous chemicals. In times past, the usual way to dispose of these chemicals was simply dumping them into the river.

But China is becoming more environmentally conscious. I wouldn't say the government there has reached the level of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, and the rivers around here can still run filthy with industrial waste. But the government is trying.

So we thought a visit to the leather city would be a good way to illustrate this. First, the problem is pretty apparent - the chemicals and toxic waste run down the gutters and throughout the waterways of the city.

Second, the city is trying hard to clean up.

Our dilemma: go to the city our way, or the official Chinese way.

Our way: book a flight, arrange for a car and overnight accommodations, cover the story. Very American. It's how we would do it in Des Moines, Iowa.

The Chinese way: ask permission. First, you need the permission of officials in the local area, and they will decide exactly what you see and who you interview and they will assign someone to stay with you to make sure you keep to their itinerary.

You also need permission from the Foreign Ministry in Beijing to travel to the city in question, because we're not supposed to leave town without the Foreign Ministry saying we can.

We decided to follow the ancient adage: it is easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

We did it our way. Well, at least we tried.

When we reached this small city, we checked into the hotel and there was the first sign of trouble. When you check into a hotel, you must present your documents. In our case, that meant our passports - and our passports have foreign journalist visas.

The desk clerks carefully studied our little group of five: correspondent, producer, cameraman, soundman and translator. They cheerfully checked us in but, as we were to learn later, within minutes they'd picked up the phone and called the local authorities, who immediately called higher ups in the provincial capital.

While we slept, they marshaled their forces against the evil journalists.

The next morning, we traveled around the city for a bit, not taking many pictures because we didn't want to draw attention to ourselves. Then we headed for a particular tiny village outside of town, one mentioned in Chinese press reports as suffering the horrible effects of polluted ground and well water. Sick kids, unusually high rates of people with cancer.

The villagers were delighted to see us. The foreigner press had come to tell their story, expose the evildoers who refused to clean up the water.

Also waiting for us there were the officials who monitor journalists, and the cops. They'd guessed we would head for this village, and they were right on.

So we find ourselves in a dingy room atop a small building, in the middle of a debate where we mostly just shut up.

The village elders were angrily demanding that we be allowed to take our pictures and do our interviews and tell the truth of their suffering.

The officials were just as angrily telling the villagers it wasn't going to happen. Hands are waving, people are shouting, insults flying, and occasionally everyone would stop for a minute and offer each other cigarettes and then the arguments would begin again.

The villagers decided to divide and conquer. They took me and the cameraman (when no one was looking) to show us the filthy water coming from the village well.

Other villagers stayed behind in the dingy room and kept up the spirited argument, in essence - running loud, yelling interference to keep the officials distracted.

Finally, at the end of their patience, the officials demanded that the CBS News team abandon the village and return to the small city for, well, interrogation.

The female policemen said, in the nicest possible way, that we really should comply or it might get very unpleasant.

Now was the time to beg forgiveness.

Back in the small city, at the offices of the local police, we sat face to face - us on one side of a conference table and about half a dozen officials on the other: police, people from the provincial capital, and a few guys who looked like enforcers and maybe it's better we didn't know who they really were. Their main job seemed to be giving us hard stares.

We explained the story we were doing. They explained their rules, and told us to send them a letter and they would, for sure, invite us back under official auspices and help us. See how easy that would be.

(Later, we did send a polite letter, and they just as politely said no.)

We'd done the crime (in their eyes) and it was time for the punishment, which was:

A banquet, in our honor.

Yes, a lovely lunch with about a dozen different dishes served at a local restaurant. Does that seem strange? Well, they had done their duty as they saw it and, in fact, they were a bit curious. They don't get a lot of foreign journalists in that small city.

The official meeting, that one back in the conference room, had been tense at times. The banquet was, by contrast, lovely and friendly. We discovered that some of the police in our group spoke a lot better English than they initially let on. They discovered that, despite being foreign journalists, we were actually nice people and terrific conversationalists. We traded stories of our various kids and travels.

By the way, we did get our story - the one we came for. But I am not going to tell you how. Because we may have to do it our way again, one day soon.

You didn't think I was going to share all the good secrets, did you?

CBS News correspondent Barry Petersen is based in Tokyo and has reported on stories all over the world, including China, Nepal, Russia, Afghanistan, Bosnia, Somalia, and the U.S.

By Barry Petersen