China shows off 'sunshine detention centre' to allay torture claims Police guards stand in a hallway inside Beijing's No 1 detention centre during a media tour granted by the Chinese authorities. Photograph: Ed Jones/AFP/Getty Images Birthday noodles, counselling rooms and chess: such institutional details may sound like those of a children's summer camp, but they are in fact part of the effort by Chinese officials to create a "sunshine detention centre" for suspects in Beijing. Many Chinese are more likely to associate pre-trial facilities - particularly in remote areas - with overcrowding, forced confessions, abuse by staff and other inmates and a string of suspicious deaths. Some detainees are said to have died "drinking hot water" and "while playing hide and seek." Those abuses have spurred pledges to improve the system, and laws have already been reformed; earlier this month, a white paper stressed the measures taken to prevent the use of torture to extract confessions. But experts say there is a long way to go in implementing such measures. Allowing reporters to visit Beijing No 1 and 2 detention centres was a surprising move by public security officials, who usually avoid foreign media. But it was only a tiny glimpse of the highest quality facilities in the country. As well as detaining suspects securely, the new centres attempt to reform them - "reflecting our human care," said Shan Zhigang, vice director of the Beijing public security bureau. Nicholas Bequelin, senior Asia researcher at Human Rights Watch, said there was no doubt the facilities were the country's best, but added: "It does tell you something: it means this is what the government sees it should be doing ... I don't think China is building model detention centres just to fool the international community." Outside Beijing's No 1 detention centre. Surrounded by a wall just under 8m high, topped with an alarm system and coils of barbed wire, the main centre is designed for around 1,000 inmates, with men and women held in separate areas. The secondary facility holds and treats detainees with serious medical problems. Officials warned journalists not to speak to detainees but none were in evidence, bar the outlines of three people seen through the frosted glass of a cell window - making it impossible to assess how the regime operates on a regular basis. Though the centre was built in 2004, the facilities that journalists saw were clearly newly renovated. The cell, around 60 sq m, had six single beds and was equipped with a fan, air conditioning and heating. A frosted glass cubicle contained a squat toilet, basin and a hot water spigot for showers. Officials said rooms also had televisions, although there was no set in the featured cell. An account of life at the No 1 centre three years ago, written by a foreigner who was held there, said 12 to 14 detainees shared a room with a single platform that they sat on by day and slept on at night, with lights kept on round the clock. Now officials boast of thorough health examinations, opportunities to videochat with relatives and the use of a library. Posters advertise cultural activities. Zhao Chengguang, detention service director for the public security ministry, acknowledged: "As a big country, China has seen uneven social and economic development. There are also a lot of gaps in public security work in different regions, especially underdeveloped areas in the middle and west of China. There is still a lot of room for improvement. Zhang Kai, a Beijing lawyer, said: "It is rare to hear about forced confession cases in Beijing, but not in the local regions." To prevent torture during interrogations, video cameras are fitted in the Beijing rooms and the suspect and officers enter by different doors and are separated by bars. But John Kamm of Dui Hua, which advocates for political and religious prisoners and monitors developments in the criminal justice system, pointed out that not everyone was held in a detention centre; those put under residential surveillance were held in "guest houses" run by the PSB. Last year, several of those held under such conditions during a crackdown on activists and lawyers, subsequently described being tortured. Even at Beijing No 1, two hours of daily outside exercise are taken in a caged yard behind the cell measuring roughly 5.5 sq m. A video showed five inmates jogging around it in a circle. A handout said counselling rooms sought "to create a delightful and relaxed atmosphere," but the detainee's seats are steel chairs bolted to the floor, with metal waist belts. Lawyers meet clients in one room, with seating for 13 detainees. The single long counter affords little privacy and a video camera is trained on each section, though officers said only vision was recorded. And while officials said that lawyers could now book appointments via phone or internet, Zhang said meeting detainees seemed to have become more complicated recently, with extra documents required. Other innovations, such as mailboxes in cells so that detainees can raise concerns have proved of debatable value elsewhere. Earlier this year, a former prisoner in Sichuan complained that he was beaten by officers after filing anonymous complaints relating to the mistreatment of fellow inmates.Joshua Rosenzweig, a Hong Kong-based expert on the Chinese criminal justice system, said that while facilities had been opened to the public for tours recently, "I'm not necessarily convinced that one can get an accurate view of reality from these events." He added: "There is a recognition that the system has many problems, but there is also institutional resistance that has made it difficult for these problems to get addressed in a meaningful way."