I often ask myself this question when I look at everyday life all around me in the large Chinese metropolitan area where I live. Even with all the economic gains made by China in recent years, there is a large disparity between the standard of living I am used to in North America and what the average Chinese person is used to.

Frankly, most Chinese live a hard life. On the campus where I teach there is a woman who cooks and sells what can only be described as a Chinese breakfast taco. On a small briquette-fired stove she spreads out a thin batter and cooks it just like a crepe, and on top of that goes an egg and various shredded vegetables. This is then folded up into a neat bundle that can be eaten like fast food. It is delicious, one of my favorite Chinese dishes.

The back-story is that she is up way before dawn mixing the batter, preparing the vegetables and packing everything onto her bicycle pickup. She then pedals into the city, sets up, and starts serving her customers. She stands outside all day, summer and winter, rain or shine. It has been bitter cold these past few winter months, but she has never missed a day. This is her life, her living.

The other day on the street I saw a touching sight. A man with one wooden leg was walking though the crowd playing a joyful tune on his guitar and harmonica. Following him was a blind girl carrying an amplifier on her back while singing the lyrics to his tune. On the neck of his guitar swung a basket for donations.

One wonders what kind of hardship each had undergone to bring them to this point. But it was a joyful symbiotic relationship: he could see and play and she could sing. Together they made a partnership that saw them through the difficulties of life. They seemed happy enough, and I wondered how this could possibly be.

This leads to a larger question of what is happiness? A Google search of the topic turned up 57 million responses. One could get very metaphysical in attempting an answer, which is beyond the scope of this article. Many contend that most people are innately happy, that it is the predisposition of human nature.

Certainly one can see smiling faces in the poorest villages in the most out-of-the-way places on the planet. It does not appear that poverty, then, is a barrier to being happy or that affluence is a guarantor. Short of famine and extreme social instability (as in war), people seem to joke and laugh and generally enjoy life, although it must be acknowledged that a smiling face does not necessarily mean a happy life.

In China the times of famine and social unrest (e.g. the Cultural Revolution) are far enough behind that all but the older generations have little awareness of them. In general terms, things have never been better. While it is true that China has been affected by the global slow down, you would not know it on the streets of my city.

The streets are bustling, the traffic is chaotic, the street vendors are elbow-to-elbow, restaurants are full, and the markets are beehives of activity. During the Chinese New Year celebrations, firecrackers went off incessantly all day. There appeared to be no lack of enthusiasm for the arrival of the Year of the Ox. Everywhere we were greeted with best wishes for a good year ahead. It was a happy time.

Of course there is a difference between the happiness that comes with exciting times and the deeper happiness that usually springs from a spiritual base.

Inasmuch as a religious life may be a precondition of happiness, one can only wonder if the Chinese can achieve this kind of happiness. After all, China is ruled by the Communist Party and communist tenants, one of which says there is no God. In a paradoxical twist, the present Chinese constitution does allow for freedom of religion, and the three religions with the strongest historical roots in China — Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism — have a powerful moral force in Chinese society. Often their teachings are so intertwined the average Chinese cannot separate them.

One famous painting from the Song dynasty (960-1279 AD) shows three sages by a river discussing if the three religions are not all one, and I have been to temples where symbols from all three were represented at the altar

The government also recognizes Islam, Catholicism and Protestantism. (The LDS Church is not officially recognized but is allowed to practice under certain restrictions.) It is difficult to tell how many people these religions encompass, but the number could exceed 100 million. One survey suggests that as many as a third of the Chinese call themselves religious whether as part of the recognized religions or independent of them.

That the Chinese people have spiritual tendencies is borne out by my daily interactions with them. They are immensely curious about religious things and will shyly ask questions. Around campus I see young Muslim female students wearing their headscarves. What may be the religious affiliation of other students is less apparent due to the lack of such distinctive clothing, but I am amazed at the number of female students who wear Christian crosses. One never knows if this is a sign of their faith or just a fashion statement.

Regardless of religious affiliations, Chinese society seems to be built on a strong moral base stemming largely from a combination of Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism. Buddhist and Taoist temples can be found in most cities, and those with some historical significance are even maintained with municipal funding. Sayings by Confucius are inscribed in beautiful calligraphic lettering on stone stelae on street corners and in front of government buildings. Students learn his sayings in grade school. I once cited a Taoist saying in class and the students immediately knew it came from Lao Tzu. References to heaven and God appear frequently in their class writing assignments.

It is hard to say to what degree these tip-of-the-iceberg references relate to how much spiritual yearning may lie beneath the surface, but there is definitely something there. And to my mind, this latent spirituality among the Chinese is one explanation of why I think they are happy.

It is interesting to note that under the shadow of the Taoist Temple of Heaven in a park in Beijing is one of the happiest gatherings of people I have seen in China . In some ways it is like the Central Park of the city. During the day, and more particularly on weekends, thousands of people congregate there to enjoy themselves in a variety of activities. There are ad hoc card games, Chinese checkers, picnics, family gatherings, and small troupes focused on things such as folk dancing, band rehearsal, playing ancient instruments, and so on.

It is a vibrant scene. There are no frowns, no sad faces, no disgruntled souls. There is only happiness.

Other pictures come to mind: two little girls playing games on a computer, an ethnic minority Chinese girl wearing the headdress of her group tediously sews knots into a cloth that will end up as a beautiful tie-dyed table decoration, a street cleaner delicately ties together strips of recycled plastic that will become her broom, a troupe of men and women from the Sami minority group demonstrate their ethnic folkdance, and a man stands proudly beside his prized one-cylinder truck. All are smiling and taking joy in their daily lives.

One of the bright spots of our week is when our housekeeper, Mrs. Liu, arrives on Monday morning to clean our apartment. This is because of her bright, bright smile. She is always smiling, as if she were taking the greatest pleasure just being in our company.

But we know that Mrs. Liu's life is hard, especially when compared to Western standards. She was young when the Cultural Revolution came into full force. Schools closed down as teachers were denounced or fled to escape the consequences of this hysterical time. Because of this, Mrs. Liu's formal education did not go beyond three years of primary school, and even today her reading and writing skills are limited.

Due to the difficulty her husband has had in finding work, Mrs. Liu has become the primary breadwinner of the family, which consists also of two sons, one in an apprenticeship and the other in a university. She has succeeded in scrapping together a livelihood with three jobs ? two as a housekeeper and one as a nanny in an orphanage.

At the end of a hard day she retires to her one-room apartment, one that lacks both kitchen and bathroom facilities. While she may inwardly think her life is hard, there is no evidence of it judging from her radiant smile and the enthusiasm with which she attacks each day. Who is to say that she is any less happy than those who have more?

And so it goes with all Chinese. I find that they are as happy as any others on this earth, because as with all God's creatures there is that Divine spark that enlightens each day and propels us onward to happiness.