Two Chinese Dissidents Are Stuck in an Airport Limbo—And It’s a Real Drag
It’s hard to imagine a 64‑year‑old Chinese activist celebrating a birthday while living inside a fluorescent‑lit airport terminal. That’s exactly what Liu Xinglian has been doing at Taoyuan Airport in Taiwan. He’s not alone—his friend Yan Kefen (age 44) is also living a prison‑like life in the same transit area. Both are on a waiting‑list for asylum in Canada, and both have been posting updates to let the world know the struggle.
What’s Happening?
- Both Liu and Yan fled political persecution in mainland China, first to Thailand, and now to Taiwan.
- Their asylum request is being processed by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Taiwan (they’re not quite deported yet).
- Neither can exit the airport enclave because Taiwan doesn’t have a permanent resident status for foreign refugees.
- Local law doesn’t shield them, and the UN refugee office can’t help because Taiwan isn’t a UN member.
Air‑borne Flashlight Diary
From the inside, Liu explains: “We can’t breathe fresh air and there’s no sunlight. We’re stuck in a fluorescent‑lit fourth‑floor room and eating boxed meals.” Yan is equally worried: “I felt my life was in danger in Bangkok, and I feared Thai police would deport me back to China.” Letters to the press are often written from a cramped, humming space between jet engines.
The Taipei Conundrum
“We don’t want to create trouble for Taiwan, but we need to hop onto Facebook and Twitter so that people will not forget us,” Yan admits. Taiwan’s Mainland Affairs Council has acknowledged the lack of a solid legal mechanism for refugees but says it will “uphold human rights and keep us safe.”
In a World That’s Genuinely Puzzled
Unlike the Saudi teen Rahaf Mohammed al‑Qunun, whose story captured headlines thanks to a viral Instagram fight with Thai officials, the Taiwanese case has barely made leeway through the media circus. The situation is even stranger given that Taiwan has historically been a haven for people fleeing China’s civil turmoil—yet now it knows little about how to protect people like Liu and Yan.
What Could Happen Next?
Even though the local government openly supports holding them safe, there is no timetable on when they might move to a third country. Yan says he “can only hope to leave before the Chinese New Year,” because the entire situation hinges on an indefinite wait that could last until the Lunar New Year arrives.
The Takeaway
- They’re stuck in a permanent “in‑flight” status—closed to the outside world, but alive.
- Peaceful lobbying on social media is their best bet to keep the story alive.
- Even a hidden corner at an airport can become its own little micro‑society for refugees.
In a world where borders shift faster than you can say “invisibility cloak,” Liu and Yan’s plight reminds us that the limbo is a real thing—and one that’s not yet getting a narrative or a nomadic exit. Let’s hope their Airbnb‑like stay turns into a proper home soon.
