Don't blame Huairou. I'll bet this city never expected to be hosting a major international conference. To their credit, though, the people of Huairou, some 50km north of Beijing, are watching patiently as hundreds of workers sweat under the 35-degree sun, trying to get an entire convention site completed by the end of August. It has been like this ever since the government suddenly announced that it was changing its mind: the NGO Forum, a parallel event to the UN's Fourth World Conference on Women (WCW), would be held here in the beginning of September, not in Beijing as first planned.

As I write, a month before the Forum is to open, the place is one sprawling construction site--in fact, the only place nearly completed is the local cinema which seats less than 3000. But the banners are ready. "'95: Stay Idle, Spend Your Holidays in Huairou," reads one. "Launch a Great One Hundred Days Battle for the Women's Conference," reads another on the scaffolding of an unfinished site. "Great Speed for the Glory of Huairou." Maybe it's best not to think of the confusion that lies ahead, when the invasion by an international army of women delegates and cynical journalists takes place.

If Huairou is feeling shock, it has every right. It was only several months ago, April 1 in fact, that it was named as the new venue. The Forum was originally scheduled to be held at Beijing's Workers' Stadium until it was suddenly declared to be structurally unfit.

We in Beijing were looking forward to the show: colorful groups of women marching through the most central avenues of the city: prostitutes' organizations, human rights activists, lesbians, pro-choice vs. pro-life protesters. But now, we will not only not see them on the streets of the capital, we will not see them period.

Things were much different in 1990, when China first decided that it wanted to host the event. Memories of the Tiananmen massacre were still quite fresh and the leaders, desirous of the public relations coup that a UN conference would mean, began lobbying the other Asian countries with all their might to ensure that China would be the only applicant for hosting the conference. The other countries obligingly complied and China got its wish in 1992.

Some insist that the government's eagerness stemmed from its total unfamiliarity with UN conferences, especially the raucous and outspoken NGO's representatives. But it must have all come home quite abruptly last March, when Li Peng took part in the UN conference on poverty held in Denmark. He obviously noted the loud, ragged marches and demonstrations which are so much a part of the NGOs' lobbying techniques. And sure enough, the venue was changed shortly thereafter; only the official, prestigious UN conference was kept in Beijing.

The change-of-venue announcement was made in a simple fax to the UN and NGO organizing committees in New York, and at first it seemed like the groups were going to strongly defy the Chinese decision, even threatening to boycott the conference. Forum leader Supatra Masdit first went to Huairou in April, where she announced that the move would not be accepted, because the proposed venue was too far away and featured none of the required facilities.

Unfortunately, her bravado was as short-lived as her next move was mysterious. In July a more subdued Masdit returned to China where she announced to the press that the China Organizing Committee had made so much progress on the recommendations for improving the site that the place now met all the requirements.

This was followed by a depressing list: the Forum was to be fenced off "to be exclusively for the forum participants," the participants would be "linked to the UN conference and Beijing hotels by an effective shuttle bus service," and more. If the thought of NGO reps lobbying and exchanging opinions in a fenced-off area isn't gloomy enough, try imagining spending two hours a day being shuttled back and forth to some of the 5000 different events being scheduled. One source complained, "Access to Huairou has been restricted to official cars and buses. If you miss those, it's going to be too bad." The Chinese have promised accommodation in Huairou for 16,000; registered participants already total 36,000. Add journalists and staff and you can't be blamed for wondering where everyone will stay. People have been calculating that even if all the participants should make it to Beijing, by the time the last one reaches Huairou, the conference will be at least half over.

But the venue issue is moot. I guess a conference that is less than ideal was judged to be more desirable than no conference at all. Says Sarah Burd-Sharp, UNIFEM's special advisor on the conference, "There has been a long learning program which . . . is even more important than the conference itself. It is the process leading up to the conference that really makes an impact, and if you consider that one in every five women in the world is Chinese, the impact could be huge." Unfortunately, the Huairou issue expended so much energy that it has left many crucial points in limbo. Books, videos and magazines that were meant to be shown and sold are unlikely to clear customs since China has yet to agree to change its strict procedures. And no one has solved the problem of finding facilities to print an independent conference newsletter.

More serious still, many groups have been banned from the conference altogether. That's what happened to the Tibetan Women's Organization, based in Switzerland, various Taiwanese groups and the dissident Iranian women's organization. China has refused to discuss issues such as human rights, abortion, freedom of speech and so on, and it seems to be trying to effectively limit the number of participants by complicating visa requirements. A registration number in New York was originally all that was needed; now a hotel reservation form is also necessary and that has to be obtained exclusively through venues validated with the Chinese Organizing Committee.

One Chinese source told me, "I know the government so well. They are not going to openly say, `We do not want these people here.' They are just going to make it more and more problematic in indirect ways. They'll make it impossible for people who have not been registered to even assist. They'll check IDs and say, `Sorry, you're not on the list.' Or, `Sorry, the deadline was last week.' And they won't publicize the requirements or the deadline date so no one will know what they are supposed to do."

Burd-Sharp remains optimistic. She believes that the very concept of NGOs and the reasons for their existence has been brought to China by the organizers. "Topics have been raised that had never been discussed before," she says, "like prostitution, sexual harassment, domestic violence. And the media are giving a lot of space to women's issues, which is unprecedented."

Whether authorities will let these thoughts bloom is still questioned by some. One woman led me out of her office by the arm, her voice shaking. "It is very controlled now. Everything about Chinese women making waves and getting organized is true. But that's the problem. The government is growing increasingly nervous about it and now women are considered as dangerous as the students.

"My fear is that the moment the conference is over and the international community turns its head, a crackdown on women and their organizations will start." She looks at me, and tears start welling up in her eyes. "It has already started," she says. "And you should be careful who you talk to. But the real vengeance will take place later."