(Clearwisdom.net) On November 30, 2001, a group of about sixty practitioners was escorted to Beijing's Tuanhe Dispatch Center from Beijing's Fangshan Detention Center. As soon as we entered the gate, more than twenty policemen with electric batons in hand ordered us to squat down with our hands holding our heads and our elbows up. If our elbows lowered just a little bit, we were immediately shocked. I was carrying the quilt and coat that I had bought in the Fangshan Detention Center and other baggage. I was a bit slow to move, so several policemen swarmed all over me and shocked me with electric batons. Sparks were flying off my head. From 9:00 a.m. until 3:00 p.m., they did not allow us to go to the toilet or lift our heads. When the policemen went on their break at noon, the drug addicts and other prisoners took over watching us. When we could not hold up our arms any longer, they kicked us with all their might and slapped our faces. Almost everyone was kicked and beaten repeatedly that day. Whoever was the most vicious would be appointed "captain." To get their sentences reduced, the other prisoners often brutally abused us and kicked us really hard the moment they saw any police heading in our direction. When the police saw this they smiled approvingly.
We always had excessive amounts of work to do, including packing chopsticks, folding papers, etc. If we couldn't finish the assignments, we would not be allowed to go to bed. We often worked past midnight and got up at six in the morning. We were only allowed three minutes to go to the toilet and wash up, so we had to wash up while we were using the toilet. Sometimes, before we were even finished using the toilet, the time would be up, and the captain would come in and kick and beat us. One cold December day, my hands were so frozen stiff, I couldn't pull up my pants. I received several kicks and slaps on my face. The intense mental pressure was suffocating.
Some practitioners who were there for more than two months were not allowed to wash their pants and socks even once. Many people had lice on their bodies. Sometimes the guards fed practitioners unknown drugs. If the practitioner tried to refuse, two people would intervene, one to hold the practitioner's head and pinch her nose, while the other stuffed the drug into her mouth. One Beijing practitioner, Ms. Yu Suqin, had her face all scratched and her teeth loosened. One time she was almost suffocated to death. The screams of suffering mixed with the shouts of verbal abuse were constant. All the people who have ever been to the Dispatch Center consider that place a living hell.
I remember a practitioner, Ms. Li Xiufen from Shandong Province, who was about 40 years old. She was in the same class with me. Another practitioner from Shandong (we don't know her name) had a limp and walked slowly, so she tended to queue up at the end of the line. Whenever she went to the toilet, she had to endure numerous kicks. The physical and mental torment and constant tension was unbearable, and six days after her arrival at the Dispatch Center, she became totally incontinent following a bout of kicking when she went to the toilet . She was sent to the hospital and passed away just before the 2002 New Year. Li Xiufen was asked to falsely testify that the dead practitioner was already ill before she arrived at the Dispatch Center . If Li Xiufen did not testify, her sentence would be extended half year. Li Xiufen sternly refused. When I was released at the end of my one-year term, Li Xiufen was still detained in Daxing County's Xin'an Labor Camp in Beijing, enduring torture.
On December 7, 2001, when I was sent to Xin'an Labor Camp from the Dispatch Center , I was forced to write the "three letters" that night. They did not allow me to sleep and punished me by forcing me to stand in the hallway. Two people were sent to torment me and flanked me at all times. They used the torture "pat the forehead and carry the airplane;" that is, stand against the wall and push the head to the ground with both hands braced backwards. When I could not put up with it any more, I was kicked and beaten and had cold water poured down my neck. I was tortured all night long like that.
On December 8, the most unforgettable day of my life, 13 people out of a group of 14 ganged up to beat me. Taking the lead were Yan Rongchun and Geng Shufen, who had their sentences reduced and were released ahead of time because they were so vicious. They yanked my hair, pulled my ears, and held my arms and legs, while someone else kicked me and others slapped my face. They closed the door to unleash their fury, and the guards said, "Whatever methods you adopt are okay, but she must write the 'three letters' tonight. Otherwise, none of you can go to sleep." As they beat me they accused me of being selfish. They said, "Don't you want de (virtue)? I'm going to give it to you." By then I could not bear it anymore and wanted to jump from the third floor. As I approached the window, I suddenly remembered Master's teaching, "Therefore, c ommitting suicide is sinful ." ("Lecture in Sydney") I immediately regained my senses and thought to myself that I must not die, that I had to get out alive and tell my family, my relatives and friends how evil Xin'an Labor Camp is.
Today I am writing it all out, to tell all the people in the world what is really behind the "salutary influence of education in the labor camps" that CCTV boasts about.
