"This project is more than bricks and mortar," said civil engineer Li Chuansong, noting that his company, PowerChina, has helped build nearly 700 schools across Iraq over the years.
by Xinhua writer Duan Minfu
BAGHDAD, Nov. 22 (Xinhua) -- On a crisp October morning, I joined a team of Chinese civil engineers on a field trip to the newly constructed Al-Khudar High School in Iraq's Al-Muthanna Province.
"This school may not be the largest project I've worked on, but it's certainly one I'm most proud of," said Li Chuansong, a civil engineer from the Power Construction Corporation of China (PowerChina).
His words piqued my curiosity, given his decade of experience working on major projects both in China and abroad.
The road to the school was lined with earth-toned buildings, standing close along the narrow streets. The air smelled of dusty earth combined with a whiff of diesel. Al-Muthanna Province, situated on Iraq's southeastern border, remains one of the country's least developed regions with visible scars from decades of conflicts.
As our car veered into the street where the school stood, Li leaned forward, his gaze fixed on a striking white building in the distance. "There," he said with restrained tone giving way to a spark of excitement.
I followed his gaze to the two-story structure that stood in contrast to the modest, weathered homes nearby. This was Al-Khudar High School, the latest completed project by Li's team from PowerChina.
When we arrived at the school's newly paved parking lot, Headmaster Mahmoud Yass came up to greet us warmly.
As the manager of the Iraqi Model School Project in Al-Muthanna Province, Li frequents numerous construction sites each year to check on progress and quality. The Al-Khudar High School project, in particular, brought him into a close friendship with Yass.
"I've lost count of how many times I visited during construction," Yass said. "And I can't recall how many times Mr. Li was here either."
Following Li and Yass through the spotless corridors, I saw classrooms filled with lively students, their cheery voices drifting through the open windows. The corridors gleamed under the sunlight, the fresh paint still giving off a slight sheen.
With meticulous eyes for detail, Li paused to check the emergency exit signs and make sure that their backup batteries were properly charging and tapped the exterior walls at regular intervals in case of any irregularities.
His special attention was also given to the recently installed fire hoses and other safety equipment essential for the smooth operation of the school. He talked with the headmaster, asking detailed questions regarding the school's performance and operations since its opening.
As the bell's sharp ring echoed through the hallways, a surge of students poured out into the corridor. Among them, several quickly caught sight of Li and excitedly called out, "Nihao! Nihao!" They clustered around him, displaying a sense of comfortable familiarity akin to that of old friends.
Mohammed Jaber, a spirited 15-year-old with bright eyes and an infectious grin, immediately noticed the camera we had brought along. With enthusiasm, he approached us and kindly asked, "Could I please have a photo with Mr. Li?"
Li, usually known for his composed demeanor, couldn't help but break into a genuine and warm smile. In that precious moment, the camera captured the engineer surrounded by a group of students whose lives had been profoundly impacted by his work.
"Before," Mohammed uttered, gesturing towards the expansive hallway. He grappled a bit with standard Arabic, which happened to be the only Arabic dialect I could comprehend. This language barrier was a common occurrence in this region, where a significant portion of the older generation spoke fluent standard Arabic, while the impact of a fragile education system over the decades had left its mark on the younger generations.
"We used to be crammed into small rooms," he explained, his gaze sweeping across the lofty ceilings and expansive windows that allowed the desert breeze to flow in. "Summers were unbearable with the heat. But now…" he trailed off, marveling at the transformation that had taken place in the school's architecture.
As the bell signaling the start of a new class rang out, the students hesitated, reluctant to part ways until Yass, with the aid of loudspeakers, gently guided them back to their respective classrooms.
Amidst the bustling ambiance of teachers imparting instruction and students actively participating, Li turned to me with a triumphant expression. "You see?" he exclaimed. "I told you. This is my proudest project."
The original Al-Khudar High School, established in 1962, had endured significant deterioration over the years, falling victim to conflict and neglect. However, the newly constructed campus, sprawling across an impressive 3,500 square meters, now stands as a symbol of hope for the region's young population. With the capacity to accommodate 1,200 students, it serves as a beacon, promising a brighter future for the area's youth.
"This project is more than bricks and mortar," Li said, noting that his company, PowerChina, has helped build nearly 700 schools across Iraq over the years. "When children lay their eyes on this school, my hope is that it ignites a spark within them, motivating them to strive diligently and aspire to be part of this educational institution."
After hours of work, Li pulled out his tablet and checked off the final items on his inspection list. All met or exceeded standards.
While the harmonious cadence of young voices reading in unison drifted through the open windows, Li turned to me and shared a profound insight, "I believe this is precisely why we devote ourselves to the project."
In a region where hope can be as transient as a passing breeze, Al-Khudar High School rises majestically as a testament to significant transformation. As the students' voices reverberated through the hallways, I couldn't help but feel the immense weight of Li's pride and unwavering determination.
"Education holds the key to building brighter futures," Li said. "But before we can unlock that potential, we must lay the foundation for education itself." ■