China Daily reporters discuss the assignments that provided most food for thought in the past 12 months.
Rural court visits provide more in-depth knowledge
Cao Yin
How time flies! This is my 10th year as a journalist. In recent years, I have often been asked, "How can you spend a decade reporting and not feel bored?" My answer has always been, "I go to the scenes of news or go to find stories".
Last year, I made several trips to rural areas across the country to see how grassroots courts have improved the quality of legal services. The experience not only helped me write more-vivid reports, but also enriched my life.
In April, I visited courts in Lhasa and Shigatse, Tibet autonomous region. I witnessed judges hearing cases in Mandarin and Tibetan, in addition to trying to understand their difficulties in bilingual trials and translating legal books.
Two months later, I traveled to Jinggangshan, a mountainous area in Jiangxi province, and learned about the workings of a "mobile court" at tourist attractions by following the judges who shuttle between scenic spots in a bus to help visitors solve disputes.
In October, I watched Judge Gao Bo place the national emblem in a temporary circuit court in a border township in Ruili, Yunnan province, because she felt that justice needed a sense of ceremony.
Those places took many hours or even a whole day to reach, but I think the time spent was worthwhile and those stories deserved to be further dug out.
Some people may say such stories could be completed in the newsroom instead of taking up so much time, while sufficient online materials could supplement and improve the reports.
I don't agree. If I hadn't visited the Tibet High People's Court, I would never have known that there is a language office with a group of legal specialists who spend hours every day compiling bilingual Mandarin-Tibetan legal texts to serve Tibetan judges hearing cases.
If I hadn't picked up the national emblem, weighting about 5 kilograms, in the court in Ruili, I would not have believed that local judges transported it every time they conducted trials in villages.
Going to the scene is not a waste of time. It means capturing the details, and those details can brighten reports.
In the internet era, many basic facts can be unearthed in just a few seconds with the click of a mouse. But details, I think, cannot.
They still need a journalist to visit the scene to see and feel, and that's why stories about the same topic are sometimes quite different. That's been my way of remaining passionate about reporting in recent years.
The country is so beautiful
Aybek Askhar
When I started working at China Daily last year, a colleague told me about an exciting story she had covered.
A few years ago, she followed members of the Xibe ethnic group, who mainly live in the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, who were retracing a journey made by their soldier ancestors 250 years ago to defend the nation. From Northwest China, they traveled more than 5,000 kilometers across Mongolia to Xinjiang in 13 days.
They carried guns to guard against the wolves hunting around the steppe in Mongolia, and followed the route taken by their ancestors. Sometimes they had to camp in the desolate Gobi Desert, but in return, they enjoyed the night sky studded with beautiful twinkling stars.
"When we finally arrived in Xinjiang, I felt grateful to be a part of that journey made by the soldiers' descendants, and it was an intriguing experience. From now on, you will have it, too," my colleague said after telling me the story.
It is probably the best job description I have ever heard, and a few days later, I was on a flight to my home in Xinjiang for the first time as a journalist.
Last year, I visited places in China I had never been before, and experienced different cultures as I covered stories I had never heard before: I saw people in a small town in Fujian province invite a team of drummers to a relative's funeral procession; I heard farmers in Jiangxi province speaking the same dialect as my friends from Taipei; and I ate fresh shrimps from the Arabian Sea on the Pamir Plateau.
I never expected to be a journalist. Now, seeing my byline below a headline gives me a sense of fulfillment and all my experiences have made me realize how great my country is.
Ernest Hemingway once wrote, "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast."
I think he was right, as I experienced the diversity and inclusivity of Paris when I visited years ago. I have searched for the same feeling since I returned to China.
Now, after visiting many places, talking to different people and experiencing various cultures in China, I have found each province is unique in its own way and the country, made up of them, is like a bigger version of Paris.
If I may make a wish, I hope that by the end of the year everyone is lucky enough to visit China－not through a camera lens, documentaries or the media, but by applying for a visa, buying a ticket, and beginning a journey in this beautiful country.
In November, when I was covering a joint patrol along the Mekong River, the beautiful rainforest of Southeast Asia that Captain Benjamin L. Willard saw in the film Apocalypse Now came into view.
Thankfully, unlike the captain's uneasy trip, mine was safe and pleasant.
Satellite anniversary promises a stellar future
Zhao Lei
This year marks the 50th anniversary of China's maiden space mission, which placed the country's first satellite into orbit in April 1970.
As a reporter who usually writes dozens of stories about people and developments in the space sector each year, I am truly looking forward to the country's space program in the coming months.
We will see China's first Mars exploration mission that will release a rover to roam on the red planet; the fourth lunar expedition, which will bring back samples from the moon, 44 years after the world's most recent sample-return mission; and the manned program's new steps that will pave the way for construction of a massive space station and a lunar scientific outpost.
As far as I know, at least five new types of carrier rockets－the Long March 5B, 7A and 8, along with Smart Dragon 2 and Kuaizhou 11－are scheduled to make their maiden flights this year.
China Aerospace Science and Technology Corp, the country's major space contractor, has announced that it has plans for at least 40 launch missions this year. Another State-owned conglomerate, China Aerospace Science and Industry Corp, is expected to undertake about eight missions.
Moreover, some private rocket businesses have published plans to launch their own rockets.
All of this will be a stark contrast to the situation in the first two decades of China's space industry, when there were just four launches a year. There were several years with only one flight or no launches.
In 2018, China conducted 39 orbital launches, more than any other nation and exactly the same number as the country's total space missions in the 1990s.
Last year, China carried out 34 orbital launches, continuing as the world's most-frequent user of rockets. They accounted for one-third of the world's total space missions last year, more than the United States, the European Union and India－ranked from third to fifth in the annual launch list－combined. The second-biggest launch nation was Russia, with 25 missions.
Those numbers may seem dry and dull, but they represent China's rising status in the international space community, as well as its efforts to explore the universe and push forward the boundaries of human knowledge.
From the very first day of its existence, China's space industry has depended on itself, or to be more specific, on the shoulders of numerous scientists, engineers and technicians who could not expect any help from outside.
In the hard days, those scientists and technicians endured hunger, wore shabby clothes and resided in humble houses, but they did not complain or feel sad. They toiled and sweated. They spent almost all of their time and energy on their tasks, leaving little time for their parents or children.
The past year saw my stories about a Chinese rover realizing the world's first journey to the moon's far side; about designers and engineers at a private startup in Beijing breaking State-owned enterprises' duopoly on carrier rockets; and one of the world's largest and mightiest carrier rockets roaring into the night sky after numerous difficulties.
I expect the country's space circles to continue making strides, and I will continue to enjoy the privilege of telling their stories to the world.
Kind acts reflect core values
Li Hongyang
Last year, I was lucky enough to interview several really interesting people. They were not officials or experts, and what made them headline stars was that they lived interesting lives in accordance with their values.
They had all persisted with one thing for decades, which brought them constant happiness.
Zhang Xiaoli, a 64-year-old ragman from Aksu prefecture, Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, has been collecting books from recycling stations for 20 years. It was hard for him to get books during his childhood, so he decided to establish his own library. So far, it has received about 50,000 readers.
Liu Jinghui, a 74-year-old retiree in Changsha, Hunan province, committed himself to doing 1 million good deeds for passengers at the local railway station, such as mending shoes and repairing suitcases or even giving people money to buy tickets. He has done this for 42 years and has four notebooks full of grateful words from passengers he has helped.
The directions and choices they have taken and made collectively show what they value. Another indication of their core values is that they spend most of their time and money on these acts of kindness.
Liu has spent about 120,000 yuan (US$17,493) helping travelers and on materials for shoe repairs. Zhang values knowledge and education, and Liu loves helping other people.
They do so because these things bring them happiness, while illustrating their values. I could tell this from their voices and faces.
They look much younger than their real ages, with no excessive fat on their faces, and they sound like new staff members of a company who are always ready to tackle any thorny task with passion.
Successfully finding their values makes them dedicated to kind acts and enriches their spiritual lives.
As a reporter, one of my core interests is discovering different values and presenting the illuminating ones to other people.
It is not easy to copy their way of life, but we can build our own sense of value by remembering the things that bring us most happiness and a sense of achievement, and devoting ourselves to them.
Poverty eradication on track
Li Lei
In recent years, I have traveled to some of the poorest areas in China's western regions in the hope of bringing back stories that will tell our readership about the nation's work to eradicate absolute poverty.
I spoke with herders on the outskirts of Lhasa, capital of the Tibet autonomous region, who had recently shaken off poverty through relocation programs that moved them closer to schools, hospitals, factories and government-funded training centers.
Many had spent their lives herding yaks and sheep among the snowcapped mountains, and had never attended school. Some younger herders said they felt stuck because of a lack of skills and capital to start a new life elsewhere.
I've talked to apple farmers in Jingning county, Gansu province, where the sunlight and temperatures make a perfect production base for the fruit, but the farmers seldom collected the financial benefits they deserved.
The orchards mostly sit on hilltops where temperatures vary vastly by day and night. That helps sugar to build up in the apples, but creates irrigation problems. For generations, the harvests were completely at the mercy of the weather.
Rain during the harvest season could ruin a year's hard work, as it would make the path leading to the orchard impassable for trucks for a long time, raising transportation costs and keeping farmers from the best sales season.
That changed after a State-owned company built roads and bridges, and fostered other industries in the village via a "paired assistance" program.
I've also spoken with workers in Kashgar, Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, where factories were built to help farmers work labor-intensive jobs on their doorsteps, and herders in Menyuan county, Qinghai province, who lease their grassland to companies, which in turn employ them to conserve the environment and boost incomes.
Each family that is yet to escape poverty has a poster on their wall, detailing each adult's work status and children's schooling.
It is part of a profiling system known as Jiandang Lika, which requires local officials to register poor people one by one and specify the cause of their poverty to help formulate appropriate action.
We must all change lifestyles
Hou Liqiang
As an environmental journalist, I covered many different topics last year. However, climate change stands out as the most serious issue.
The Oxford English Dictionary declared "climate emergency" the phrase of 2019. For my phrase of the year, however, I chose "climate action".
As the threat from climate change looms larger, the clock for action ticks faster than ever.
According to a UN report, the world is already 1.1 C warmer than at the onset of the Industrial Revolution. The world has seen great impact from that change.
"In Greenland alone, 179 billion tons of ice melted in July. Permafrost in the Arctic is thawing 70 years ahead of projections," UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres told delegates to the UN Climate Change Conference in Madrid, Spain, held from Dec 2 to 13.
"Do we really want to be remembered as the generation that buried its head in the sand, that fiddled while the planet burned?" he asked. His words cross my mind frequently.
If we look around the world, we can definitely see lots of action.
A campaign of civil disobedience, aimed at forcing governments to take rapid action to tackle climate change, went viral around the globe, especially in the Western world.
Swedish climate change activist Greta Thunberg, who was named 2019 Person of the Year by Time magazine, inspired a school strike movement that mobilized millions of young people on Sept 20.
I don't oppose such campaigns, and I agree with the protestors that governments should do more, but I want to remind them that demonstrations and slogans cannot solve everything. While pressing governments to do more, every one of us is obliged to lead a low-carbon life.
When I went to report on the UN climate change conferences in Katowice, Poland, in 2018, and Madrid last year, I saw that many people were not leading low-carbon lives.
The air-conditioning systems in many restaurants, hotels and shopping malls, for example, were making those venues extremely hot.
At the Madrid conference, I met a Dutch woman who worked for an intergovernmental organization. She told me that demonstrators sometimes leave streets strewn with rubbish in their civil disobedience campaign for climate action.
It's absurd that people participate but don't lead low-carbon lives.
I never demonstrate or shout slogans for climate action, but I didn't use an air conditioner in my home last year, even though the temperature sometimes rose above 40 C during the Beijing summer. I am taking action.
I don't want to dissuade people from the civil disobedience campaign, but may I suggest that all of us, no matter where we come from, act together to lead low-carbon lives and persuade people around us to do that, too?
I don't know if the civil disobedience campaign will force governments to take more action, but I do know we can contribute to the world's climate progress if we lead low-carbon lives.
Let's help Beijing's junkmen
Yang Zekun
Last year, I covered many topics across different fields, including environmental protection, matchmaking for seniors, crackdowns on gangs and organized crime, sex education and community police work.
By talking with people in different professions, I noticed that ordinary people are always a source of wonderful stories and reflect the real changes in society.
The story of Beijing's junk collectors lingers in my mind. The topic led me to pay more attention to this special group and wonder how the community could exist in the capital for decades, and even consider how it can find a place in the city's development.
When it comes to these junkmen, the first impression for most people is usually middle-aged men in ragged clothes collecting cans, bottles and paper.
My impression changed after a month spent interviewing them, because I discovered that they make a significant contribution to the city's sustainable development. I often see garbage collectors sorting trash on roadsides at night.
Beijing introduced a stringent trash-sorting program, which led many people to learn about trash classification. However, a group with such skills has been active in China's cities for many decades. They are the junk collectors.
Beijing produces nearly 26,000 metric tons of domestic waste every day, and its 29 garbage-disposal facilities are operating at full capacity. Last year, 9.3 million tons of household waste were collected in the capital.
An interviewee from Henan province, who has lived in Beijing for 22 years, told me that junkmen used to collect almost all the recyclable waste. However, the departure of many of them means a lot of useful stuff now goes to waste.
An experienced junkman can separate more than 30 types of plastic quickly. Such skills are important for the ongoing trash-sorting program in Beijing, so why not make full use of the junkmen's skills and experience?
After all, the operation and development of a city needs the efforts of people from all walks of life. If the authorities gave these people, few of whom are locals, a chance, they could discover a sense of belonging.
Meeting people is crucial
Cui Jia
Last year, China Daily's National News Desk made a short video, using footage and pictures of the reporters and editors at work. It seemed to be the only solution to our inability to take a group photo with everyone in it. That's something we've attempted, but failed, to do many times, because our reporters are always out and about, bringing the real China to our readers.
For me, the kick of getting a great quote still instantly removes the fatigue caused by traveling nonstop for hours or even days. My colleagues and I agree that without meeting people in person and taking time to earn their trust, there would be no way to get such quotes.
An employee at China's biggest Bible publisher and exporter, in Nanjing, Jiangsu province, told me that she sees the factory floor as "a Holy Sea of Bibles".
A humorous border police officer in China's northernmost village, Beiji, Heilongjiang province, said there would be no delay in "Santa Claus"－a Finnish national temporally based in the village－distributing gifts, because the latest mobile application meant the inspection process only took a few minutes.
A man from Jiangxi province who lifted himself out of poverty said he gets up at 6 am every day because he believes that without self-motivation all the government's poverty alleviation policies are pointless.
I couldn't get that just by chatting on the phone or social media. That's why our reporters are always traveling to reach people around China and be touched by them. A heart-to-heart interview will always be the foundation of a good story.
I once asked a young earthquake survivor from Sichuan province what she did in the immediate aftermath. She replied:"I said'I love you' to all my family members who survived the earthquake. Coming from a traditional Chinese family, I'd never said those three words to them. I suggest you do it now."
In response, I called my family in front of her and said I loved them. She cried and gave me a big hug.
Last year, my uncle died suddenly from heart failure. Thanks to that young woman, I won't live with the regret that I never told him how much I loved him.
Universities in the firing line
Zou Shuo
From a plagiarism case involving actor and PhD graduate Zhai Tianlin, to sexual misconduct by teachers at two famous universities, the reputation of China's higher education sector was tarnished by several high-profile misconduct cases last year.
They triggered widespread criticism online, which prompted punishments from universities and education authorities.
In February, the Beijing Film Academy stripped Zhai of his Phd, and he was removed from Peking University's postdoctoral program.
Last month, Qian Fengsheng, 55, an associate professor at Shanghai University of Finance and Economics, was fired after one of his students alleged that he locked her in his car and sexually assaulted her.
Also last month, Peking University fired Feng Renjie, 36, an associate professor, for professional misconduct after online posts alleged that he was having inappropriate relationships with various women, some of whom were students.
Teachers who sexually harass students will pay a price and the education authorities will continue to expose their misconduct and punish them according to relevant regulations, the Ministry of Education said.
Teachers should not engage in inappropriate relationships with students and should not molest or sexually harass them under any circumstances, it said.
There will always be people who try to break the rules or take advantage of their position, and when such incidents happen, education authorities and universities should not downplay them.
Only when violators are seriously punished for their misbehavior can examples be set and measures taken to dissuade and prevent others from repeating the mistakes.
Last year, it wasn't all bad news for Chinese universities, though.
For the first time, four of the top 10 universities in Asia are on the Chinese mainland, according to the latest rankings released in November by QS Quacquarelli Symonds in London.
There was only one mainland university in the top 10 when the rankings were first published in 2009, and just two in the top 20.
In 2017, Beijing listed 42 universities aiming for world-class status to make China an international power in higher education.
World-class universities should not only have the best rankings, but also administrators who are not afraid to weed out rotten apples who spoil their companions.
Reality always trumps online knowledge
Zhang Yangfei
Every time I tell someone I'm a journalist, they ask the same question, "Do you travel a lot?" My answer is always "Yes. As a national news reporter, I travel a lot nationwide, even though the internet and social media mean everything is accessible online."
"Why bother then?" they ask."Why bother enduring potential traffic difficulties, the fatigue of being swayed in cars and sometimes working overtime when you could be nice and comfortable in the office?"
Well, I guess it's because no second-hand information culled from the internet can equal the reality; but most of all, traveling can help maintain one's curiosity, which is an essential trait for a journalist.
In March, I visited the Tibet autonomous region, taking a 12-day road trip of more than 1,000 kilometers from Chamdo to Lhasa. During the trip, I learned how the Lhoba ethnic group took less than 40 years to modernize from their isolated, primitive hunting lives in the mountains, where they could barely made ends meet. I saw deep gorges and fallen rocks along the way, and it was under these harsh conditions that local road maintenance workers toiled day after day to ensure traffic safety.
In May, I visited Zhongjian Island, a reef in the South China Sea, to report on the garrison stationed there.
I saw the deputy commander choke up when he spoke about his distant wife and daughter. I heard sailors relive the night they were battered by a typhoon, with tidal waves smashing windows, flooding the rooms and destroying all the trees and food supplies.
In July, I went to Tianjin, poking around a remote town where the farmland was littered with unwanted shared bikes.
I saw abandoned parts piled in heaps, covered in vines and growing rusty. I heard local people tell how they were tricked by failing shared bike companies, which explained the bleakness and closure of such bike manufacturers jostling with one another on the town's streets.
Such experiences continued throughout the year. Each was a new adventure, and without seeing and hearing the stories with my own eyes and ears, I could not have formed images in my head and written them as vividly as possible to bring the stories alive.
zhangyangfei@chinadaily.com.cn
Macao is set for an even more prosperous future
Zhang Yi
Last year, Macao celebrated the 20th anniversary of its return to the motherland. In November, I visited for a week to conduct a series of interviews.
Macao is small in both area and population. It's a peaceful, cozy, wealthy place whose residents have a high sense of happiness. The locals speak fluent Mandarin and are hospitable to visitors.
A 40-something taxi driver, surnamed Chan, told me that when the city returned to the motherland in 1999, the economy was poor and there were serious security issues. After its return, the city's stable environment helped tourism to develop.
Chan has been a taxi driver for about 15 years. His wife works in a casino. His elderly parents receive a local government pension of several thousand patacas every month and his son studies at a high school free of charge. I could feel he was satisfied with life.
I was impressed by the city's development during the past 20 years and its high level of social welfare.
Macao's per capita GDP grew fivefold from 1999 to 2018, its fiscal reserves shot up 193-fold, while the unemployment rate fell from 6.3 percent to 1.8 percent.
Local students enjoy free education from kindergarten to high school. Residents age 65 and older receive an average monthly pension of 6,099 patacas (US$760) from the government, and life expectancy is more than 80, one of the highest in the world.
"Over the past two decades, Macao has combined its own destiny with that of the motherland," said Ho Hauwah, the city's first chief executive (from 1999 to 2009), during an interview about the city's success.
"This couldn't have been achieved without support from the country or the efforts of the Macao people."
"Loving Macao and loving the country" is Macao's core value. Patriotic education activities, including raising the national flag, are common in its schools. Every year, several groups have an opportunity to visit the Chinese mainland to learn about the country's history and development.
I believe that patriotism will remain Macao's core value in the next 20 years, and the city will embrace even brighter prospects.
Eco-protection efforts blossom in rural areas
Yang Wanli
Having lived in Beijing for 15 years, I had never had strong feelings about relocating to a small city until November, when I spent a week conducting interviews about the construction of forest cities in Jiangxi province.
What I saw completely changed my view of third-and fourth-tier cities, which used to be tagged as "underdeveloped"－a term that usually refers to poor infrastructure and public services－compared with large cities.
In Nanchang, Jiangxi's capital, I was astonished to see how local people enjoy eco-friendly lives at the Aixi Wetland Forest Park. At 467 hectares, it is larger than the Beijing Olympic Forest Park, the capital's biggest such facility in the urban district.
Compared with the Beijing park, Aixi's is more impressive, not simply because of its land coverage, but also its dominance in terms of plant diversity and the number of wild birds it hosts.
It is home to nearly 1,000 wild plants, including trees, grasses and flowers, and also hosts about 2,000 wild geese, egrets and swans.
I saw ease and happiness in the smiling faces of people in the park－young and old－walking the hiking trails, camping with their families or exercising with their peers.
I found an unexpected library in a two-story wooden house, where people sat reading on chairs or straw mats. There is a charge for coffee and tea, but the library is free. People just need to make an online appointment to visit.
Reading must be even more enjoyable in a place so close to nature, I thought, as I stood on the library's second floor, hearing the rustle of leaves in the wind and seeing wild ducks flying across the lake.
Isn't this the life that millions in Beijing and Shanghai dream of and struggle for: to breathe fresh air, have a harmonious relationship with wildlife, live at a slower pace and be closer to nature with their families?
Fourteen years ago, when he was Party secretary of Zhejiang province, President Xi Jinping coined the phrase "Clear waters and lush mountains are invaluable assets."
While the whole country is now stepping forward with the aim of building a beautiful China through eco-construction, the medium-sized and small cities have been pioneers.
In recent years, the country has seen tremendous improvements in eco-protection.
Last year marked the 15th anniversary of the Forest Cities Construction Project, and the 20th anniversary of the Natural Forest Protection and the Conversion of Cropland to Forest and Grassland programs.
In August, the National Forestry and Grassland Administration announced that China's forest coverage had soared from 12 percent in the 1980s to 22.96 percent.
Last year, China built 2,750 nature reserves, covering 1.47 million square kilometers, accounting for 15 percent of the country's total land area.
By December, 138 cities had been certified as State-level Forest Cities, and the forested area in each of them had risen by 13,333 hectares in each of the past five years.
In Jiangxi, I met some owners of startups, many born in the 1980s. They chose to run their own businesses in the province after spending some time working in large metropolises. Most of the businesses are related to green industries such as organic food production and eco-tourism.
They told me that there are more job opportunities in smaller cities now. They said they were confident about the potential of smaller cities, because those places have significantly improved environments and living conditions.
How have the eco-protection efforts influenced the country? The people will tell you.
I cherish the memories of my first trip as a reporter
Zhao Yimeng
When my colleagues warned me to be well-prepared for the tight schedule and intensive interviews on my first trip as a reporter, I didn't take them seriously. How hard could things be for a passionate young woman who was about to open a new chapter in her career?
Days later, as I stood in front of a hill covered by gray and brown gravel and barely visible paths in the middle of the Gobi Desert, I retracted that statement about myself.
Mount Dahong is the nickname of a 1,100-meter-high hill near China's border with Mongolia. Border control officers sometimes climb up and raise the national flag on the summit to lift their sprits amid the extreme living conditions.
I love hill walking, but it was the first time I had been forced to find a track without any steps or other man-made aids. Although an officer carried my heavy camera, I was still fearful of slipping, and by the midway point I felt exhausted.
An officer holding my arm to support me said climbing Mount Dahong was the most relaxing thing in his job, because life in the desert was sometimes so tedious that solitude was the only enemy.
I hardly understood his words at the time, partly because I hadn't interviewed any officers before climbing the hill. Or, probably, I was too tired to think.
It turned out that the experience ahead of the interviews was a really good way to get to know the young officers who guard the border area of 9,400 square kilometers and also take care of local herders.
As I finally approached the summit, I discovered that the hillside bore some names and slogans written in pebbles.
Previous officers at the station had left their names on the hillside to commemorate their efforts. Their words reminded their successors to persevere by climbing the mountain and reading the names.
I placed my name on the summit, too, though my fatigue was nothing compared with the hardships or contributions of the border officers.
But at least my name on a hill in a desert will remind me of the precious memories of my first work trip with those hard-working officers.
