The Journey of Faith Among Chinese Migrants

The movie "Dear You" has swept across China and Southeast Asia like a storm. Everywhere I went, almost everyone I met seemed to be talking about it.

On further reflection on the first Chinese migration to foreign lands, two things stood out as especially important to them: preserving the Chinese language and maintaining the religious traditions embraced by their families. This explains why, in nearly every place where early Chinese settlers established communities, one can find temples and ancestral worship halls. For those who had converted to Christianity, the pattern was similar. They began by gathering for Sunday worship in homes, and as their communities grew, they built church buildings to accommodate regular congregational worship.

By coincidence, I was recently invited to share the history of BCCM with a group of young lower secondary school students on 28 June 2026. It was a meaningful opportunity to reflect on how faith, migration, and heritage have shaped the church’s identity over the generations.

BCCM’s origins can be traced back to the first group of Chinese Christian migrants who arrived from Guangdong in 1882 in North Borneo, a territory later known as Sabah following the formation of Malaysia. These early migrants were brought in primarily to help open up vast tracts of land and dense jungles for agricultural development, including rubber plantations, coconut estates, and coffee farms across various parts of North Borneo.

Among these pioneers were Christian believers who had come to faith in China through the ministry of missionaries from Basel, Switzerland. Though they had left their homeland behind, they carried with them something far more enduring - their faith. In this unfamiliar new land, they sought to preserve and nurture that spiritual inheritance by establishing a worshipping community of their own.

In honor of the missionaries and the spiritual legacy through which they had received the Gospel, they named their church the “Basel Church.” What began as a small community of migrant believers would, over time, grow into a vibrant and enduring church, rooted in faith and committed to serving future generations.

Initially, the church was a Chinese Hakka-speaking congregation, serving the linguistic and cultural needs of its earliest members. Over the years, however, it evolved significantly. As Sabah’s demographic landscape changed, the church adapted to serve a broader and more diverse population. Today, BCCM has become a multilingual church community, ministering not only in Hakka and Chinese Mandarin but also to English-speaking and Bahasa Malaysia-speaking members.

Its journey reflects a broader story of migration, faith, and adaptation - how a community rooted in heritage can remain faithful to its origins while growing to embrace new generations and cultures.

Stories of Dumpling Festival, Movie and Faithful Lives

This year on 19 June 2026 (Lunar 5 May), I noticed that the number of Zongzi Festival greeting cards shared in WhatsApp chat groups increased significantly compared with previous years. One former classmate even commented while sharing one of such greeting cards, “We Sabahan Chinese still remember our roots and remain very much Chinese, as we continue to observe our traditional customs.”

For me, when my parents were still alive, it was customary for our family to gather for a reunion dinner at their home whenever the Duan Wu Festival or Dumpling Festival arrived. That tradition ceased after they passed away. For our generation, maintaining such practices has become increasingly difficult, especially as many of our children have moved abroad and settled in different countries.

At times, I wonder how appropriate it is to exchange greeting cards carrying messages such as “Happy Dragon Boat Festival” or “Happy Zongzi Festival,” considering the historical origins of this observance. The original purpose of making and throwing rice dumplings into the Miluo River (汨罗江) was to prevent the body of the patriotic poet-statesman Qu Yuan (屈原) from being eaten by fish. It is, at its core, a gesture rooted in mourning and remembrance. 

According to tradition, Qu Yuan took his own life by jumping into the river after failing to persuade the king of Chu to adopt his counsel. His political failure and exile are believed to have contributed to the eventual decline of the Chu kingdom.

I remember that during the 1950s and 1960s, Chinese primary school textbooks placed great emphasis on teaching about historical heroes such as Qu Yuan and Yue Fei (岳飞). According to traditional accounts, Yue Fei, born in 1103, was physically strong, highly disciplined, and trained in both martial arts and classical scholarship. One famous story recorded in textbooks is that his mother tattooed four characters on his back - “精忠报国,” meaning “serve the country with utmost loyalty.”

Yue Fei was a celebrated general of the Song dynasty who led his forces in resisting the invading Jin armies from the north. Despite his loyalty and military achievements, he was betrayed by the corrupt official Qin Hui and was unjustly executed.

For his treachery, Qin Hui’s legacy has become synonymous with shame and humiliation. This is vividly symbolized by the kneeling iron statues of Qin Hui and his wife placed before Yue Fei’s tomb in Hangzhou. I still remember our trip to Hangzhou, China in September 2014. At Yue Fei’s tomb, we witnessed tourists slapping or striking these statues as they paid their respects to Yue Fei. It remains one of the most powerful examples of public condemnation of wrongdoing that I have ever witnessed - where, even centuries after death, a person continues to be remembered with enduring disgrace.

Yet, such powerful reminders of corruption and betrayal do not seem sufficient to deter others from repeating the same mistakes. As I have pointed out before, there is no shortage of corrupt leaders and individuals, not only in China but throughout the world even today.

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We also spent two hours that afternoon watching the highly acclaimed Chinese movie "Dear You" (给阿嬷的情书). This low-budget film, produced in China in the Teochew dialect with a production cost of only ¥14 million RMB (approximately RM9.0 million), has achieved extraordinary success. Since its release in April 2026, it has grossed ¥1.8 billion RMB (around RM1.12 billion) as of 19 June 2026 - an astonishing achievement for a regional, dialect-based family drama.

The story of how we came to know about this movie is equally fascinating. During our visit to Prince Gong’s Mansion in Beijing on 21 May 2026, we stopped at the man-made rocky garden. My wife sat on a bench for a brief rest, where a Chinese lady happened to be seated beside her.

She introduced herself as a local Beijinger, and upon learning that my wife was an overseas Chinese, she immediately began speaking about a movie she had recently watched - one that had deeply moved and captivated her. She shared that she had wept throughout much of the film. It had left such a profound impression on her that it changed the way she viewed overseas Chinese communities.

She explained that, after watching the movie, she gained a much deeper appreciation of the hardships and sacrifices endured by the forefathers of many overseas Chinese families. Their migration journeys were often marked by poverty, uncertainty, separation, and immense personal sacrifice, as they left their homeland in search of better opportunities abroad. Her words were sincere and heartfelt, and the emotional weight of her reflection was unmistakable.

That brief but meaningful encounter stayed with us. It was this chance meeting in Beijing that eventually led us to watch Dear You ourselves.

The film has resonated deeply with Chinese audiences around China and many southeast Asian countries because its story reflects a shared collective memory shaped by migration, separation, and family sacrifice. For many overseas Chinese families, its themes feel intensely personal. The experiences portrayed in the film mirror the journeys of countless Chinese migrants whose forefathers left China in search of better opportunities abroad, often enduring hardship, loneliness, and long periods of separation from their loved ones.

For my wife, whose maternal ancestors migrated from Chaoshan (潮汕) and whose grandfather came from Dongshan (东山), Fujian, to Malaya in the early 1900s, this shared history gave the film an even deeper emotional resonance. As she watched, the story became more than just a narrative on screen - it reflected the lived experiences of her own family.

For me, the film stirred powerful memories of both my paternal grandfather and maternal grandfather, who migrated from Guangdong to North Borneo in the early 1900s. Their journeys, struggles, and sacrifices echoed profoundly throughout the film, bringing to mind the hardships they endured and the resilience that shaped the generations that followed.

What makes the film especially powerful is its emotional authenticity. It captures the enduring bonds between generations, the sacrifices made in silence, and the emotional weight carried through letters, memories, and unspoken love. In many ways, Dear You is more than just a movie - it is a heartfelt tribute to the history, resilience, and emotional legacy of the Chinese diaspora.

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A day earlier, I had the privilege of sharing with the Golden Joy Senior Citizen Fellowship Group during the pre-Father’s Day celebration. As most of the audience were seniors who have now reached the cherished stage of being grandparents, the emphasis of my sharing was on affirming that although many of them may see their lives as simple and ordinary, they have in fact achieved something extraordinary. Through years of perseverance, sacrifice, love, and faithful commitment to their families and communities, they have built legacies that continue to shape future generations. Their lives stand as a powerful reminder that greatness is often found not in fame or recognition, but in quiet faithfulness and enduring impact.

Old Summer Palace - Yuanmingyuan

From the Summer Palace, our guide brought us to another historic site - the Old Summer Palace, known in Chinese as Yuanmingyuan. Less visited by tourists, the site today consists largely of ruins from what were once magnificent imperial structures.

What many visitors may not realize is that Yuanmingyuan was once the grandest imperial garden in China and among the most magnificent palace complexes in the world. It served as the primary residence and administrative retreat of the Qing emperors, who often preferred it to the Forbidden City for its beauty, privacy, and comfort. Construction began in 1707 during the reign of Kangxi Emperor and was greatly expanded by later rulers, especially Qianlong Emperor.

Unlike the nearby Summer Palace, which survives today in restored form, the Old Summer Palace remains largely in ruins. At its peak, Yuanmingyuan covered more than 3.5 square kilometers - larger than the Forbidden City—and contained hundreds of pavilions, temples, bridges, lakes, gardens, and ceremonial halls. It was not a single garden but a vast complex of three interconnected ones: Yuanmingyuan, Changchunyuan, and Qichunyuan.

The palace represented the pinnacle of classical Chinese garden design. Its creators sought to recreate idealized landscapes from across China, blending artificial hills, winding waterways, islands, and carefully placed architecture to create ever-changing scenic views. The design embodied the traditional Chinese philosophy of shan-shui (“mountain and water”), which emphasizes harmony between nature and human craftsmanship. Rather than dominating nature, the goal was to shape it into an ideal artistic landscape.

One of Yuanmingyuan’s most fascinating sections was the Western Mansions (Xiyanglou), designed by Jesuit missionaries serving at the Qing court. These structures combined European Baroque architecture with Chinese imperial aesthetics and featured fountains, marble facades, and advanced hydraulic engineering. This rare East-West fusion made the palace even more extraordinary. The surviving stone ruins—particularly the broken marble structures visible today—are among the site’s most recognizable remains.

Yuanmingyuan suffered catastrophic destruction in 1860 during the Second Opium War. After British and French forces entered Beijing, they looted the palace and burned much of the complex over several days in retaliation for the imprisonment and deaths of diplomats and soldiers. Priceless artworks, books, bronzes, jade, porcelain, and imperial treasures were stolen or destroyed. Many of these objects remain in Western museums and private collections, including the British Museum and institutions in France. Although a small number of treasures—such as several bronze zodiac fountain heads—have been returned to China through donations or repurchases, most remain overseas.

The Chinese government has intentionally preserved much of Yuanmingyuan in its ruined state rather than fully rebuilding it. The ruins serve as a powerful memorial to foreign invasion and are deeply tied to China’s memory of the “Century of Humiliation.” Preserving the broken structures allows visitors to confront the physical scars of history. Reconstruction is also difficult because many original buildings were wooden and completely destroyed, making accurate restoration nearly impossible. A full reconstruction would risk creating a modern replica rather than preserving authentic history.

Today, Yuanmingyuan stands not only as a historical treasure but also as a solemn memorial. Although there were proposals to clear the ruins and replace them with modern development, the Chinese government remained committed to preserving them. For many Chinese, these ruins symbolize both the artistic and architectural heights of imperial China and one of the nation’s deepest historical traumas.

As I concluded my walk, I found myself reflecting on this painful chapter of Chinese history. The First Opium War and Second Opium War began largely because Britain - and later France - sought to protect and expand their commercial interests in China, particularly the opium trade. Much of the opium was produced in India under the East India Company and illegally smuggled into China on a massive scale. The consequences were devastating: widespread addiction, social disruption, and severe economic harm as large quantities of silver flowed out of China.

In response, Qing official Lin Zexu launched a determined anti-opium campaign in 1839. In an effort to protect public health and uphold Chinese law, he confiscated and destroyed more than 20,000 chests of opium at Humen. Britain used this act as the immediate justification for military action, though the deeper motivations included trade dominance and imperial expansion.

From a modern ethical perspective, China’s actions can be viewed as a legitimate attempt to defend its sovereignty, public health, and social stability against a destructive narcotics trade. Britain and France, by contrast, used military force to compel China to accept trade on Western terms, including broader commercial privileges and continued foreign access to Chinese markets.

During the Second Opium War, Anglo-French forces looted and destroyed the Old Summer Palace, stealing countless cultural treasures, many of which remain in foreign collections today.

Under modern international legal principles, actions such as aggressive war, pillage, and the deliberate destruction of cultural heritage could potentially be regarded as serious violations of the laws of war. Although such legal frameworks did not yet exist in the 19th century, many historians view the Opium Wars as stark examples of colonial coercion and exploitation.

Summer Palace

It was 3:30 p.m. by the time we arrived at the lakeside to begin our tour of the Summer Palace on 23 May 2026, following our climb of the Great Wall earlier that day.

The Summer Palace (Yíhéyuán, 颐和园) is one of the most renowned imperial gardens in Beijing and a masterpiece of traditional Chinese landscape design. Originally constructed in 1750 during the reign of the Qianlong Emperor of the Qing dynasty, it was designed as a luxurious imperial retreat where emperors and their families could escape both the summer heat and the pressures of court life in the Forbidden City. The entire complex was conceived in accordance with classical Chinese aesthetics, emphasizing harmony between architecture, water, hills, and gardens, and the ideal balance between human creation and the natural world.

Covering approximately 2.9 square kilometres, about three-quarters of which is water, the Summer Palace is centered on Kunming Lake and Longevity Hill. Kunming Lake was modelled after the famed West Lake in Hangzhou and serves as the tranquil heart of the grounds. One particularly fascinating feature of the site is that Longevity Hill is not entirely natural. A smaller hill, originally known as Jar Hill, already existed on the site, but during the palace’s construction, large quantities of earth excavated from the expansion of Kunming Lake were used to reshape and elevate it into its present form. This transformation reflects the traditional Chinese “mountain–water” philosophy, in which hills and lakes are deliberately arranged to create a balanced and harmonious landscape.

Our tour began with a boat ride across Kunming Lake. The experience was both serene and breathtaking, with sweeping views of the Long Seventeen-Arch Bridge, the lakeshore, and the graceful willows lining the water, all coming together to form a vivid and picturesque scene.

Just before concluding the boat ride, we passed by the Marble Boat, a decorative stone structure symbolizing stability and permanence.

In September 2000, we didn’t manage to visit the Palace. Nevertheless, even viewing it from a distance was a magnificent experience, as its grandeur was still striking and memorable.

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After disembarking from the boat, we walked along a long covered corridor - stretching more than 700 meters along the lakeshore. It is decorated with thousands of painted scenes from Chinese mythology, literature, and nature. 

We climbed the two flights of long staircase to reach the platform just below the Tower of Buddhist Incense constructed on the Longevity Hill. From there, we were rewarded with panoramic views of the lake and the surrounding gardens.

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As we gathered to leave the Summer Palace, we passed in front of the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity. Standing at its entrance were two bronze statues, one of a phoenix and the other of a dragon. In Chinese symbolism, the phoenix, or Fenghuang, represents the Empress, while the dragon symbolizes the Emperor, together reflecting the balance, harmony, and complementary power of the imperial couple.

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The Summer Palace suffered major damage during the Second Opium War when Anglo-French forces looted and destroyed parts of it in 1860. It was later rebuilt under Empress Dowager Cixi, who famously diverted naval funds for restoration, making the palace a symbol of both imperial grandeur and political controversy.

Today, the Summer Palace is recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, designated in 1998. It is more than just a palace, it represents the artistic peak of Chinese garden architecture and offers a vivid glimpse into imperial China’s refined lifestyle and worldview.

A Memorable Finale in Beijing - Climbing Mutianyu Great Wall of China

Our final day in Beijing, on 23 May 2026, was spent visiting two iconic landmarks - the Great Wall of China at Mutianyu and the Summer Palace.

Our first destination was the Mutianyu Great Wall. This brought back memories of our earlier visit in December 2000, when we climbed the Great Wall at Badaling. At that time, Badaling was promoted as the most famous restored section of the Great Wall, located about 70 km northwest of Beijing. Built during the Ming dynasty, it served as a vital defense protecting the northern approaches to the capital. With its fully restored walls, paved access roads, cable cars, souvenir shops, and well-developed visitor facilities, Badaling became the standard destination for both domestic and international tour groups from the 1980s through the 2000s. Its status was further elevated by visits from many world leaders, whose photographs at the Wall became iconic.

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Today, Badaling remains historically significant, but it is no longer the preferred choice for many travelers. The main reason is overcrowding - especially during peak holiday periods, when the experience can feel congested and highly commercialized. Like many modern visitors, we chose the quieter and more scenic Mutianyu section instead. Still, the crowd was huge that morning. Mutianyu Great Wall (慕田峪长城) is also about 70km from Beijing, but at the northeast instead.

Mutianyu Great Wall (慕田峪长城) is one of the best-preserved and most scenic sections of the Great Wall of China, located in the forested hills of Beijing’s Huairou District, about 70–75 km northeast of the city center. Originally built during the Northern Qi dynasty in the 6th century and extensively rebuilt during the Ming dynasty, Mutianyu formed an important defensive barrier guarding the northern approaches to the imperial capital.

What makes Mutianyu especially remarkable is its combination of historical authenticity and natural beauty. The wall winds dramatically along steep mountain ridges, surrounded by dense forests of pine, cypress, and seasonal foliage. In spring and summer, the hills are lush green; in autumn, the landscape transforms into brilliant shades of red, orange, and gold, making it one of the most photogenic sections of the Great Wall.

Mutianyu is also known for its impressive architecture. This section features 23 watchtowers spread across roughly 5.4 km of restored wall, with many towers positioned closely together because of the strategic importance of the area. Unlike some other restored sections, Mutianyu retains a more peaceful and less commercial atmosphere, allowing visitors to better appreciate the scale and engineering of the Wall.

Mutianyu too offers modern conveniences such as a cable car, chairlift, and the popular toboggan ride down the mountain, making the visit accessible and enjoyable for families, seniors, and hikers alike. 

Unlike our visit in year 2000, age had clearly caught up with us, and this time the walk along the Great Wall was no longer as easy. The steep stone steps, uneven pathways, and constant inclines demanded far more effort than we remembered. We moved carefully and cautiously, sometimes holding onto the side walls for extra stability and balance.

Yet, despite the physical challenge, every step felt worthwhile. Standing atop the Great Wall once again, surrounded by breathtaking mountain views and centuries of history, brought a deep sense of accomplishment and gratitude. It reminded us not only of how much time had passed since our first visit, but also of how fortunate we were to return and experience this wonder again.

Reaching the end of our walk felt like another meaningful achievement - one earned with determination, patience, and a little perseverance. More importantly, it became a joyful shared experience, filled with laughter, encouragement, and unforgettable memories. Tiring as it was, we thoroughly enjoyed every moment, making this return to the Great Wall both rewarding and special.