Young folks in China: More Reflections

China has changed so much in the past several generations, since 1949: first, wrenching social, political, economic, and family changes under Mao, until his death in 1976.  Then the "opening up" of China from 1978 to now, when China grew from a poor country to the second largest economy in the world, and lifted hundreds of millions of people out of poverty while becoming a key power in exporting its products to much of the world (including the U.S., raisin  U.S. concern about trade and deficits with China in political debates today).  How has this affected the dreams of the young?

The painting at right (in the Shanghai History Museum) depicts (perhaps in a rather nostalgic and idealistic sense) the work of young women in the cotton weaving and cloth industry which was a key part of Shanghai's economic strength in earlier times.  In this past generation, young women (often those who've left the rural villages and farms) are still important in the now-industrialized and high-tech world of factory production, and the assembly of products for export--an opportunity sought by many, though still something involving long hours without perhaps providing the final answer to many dreamers' hopes.

Compare the painting above to the currently popular depiction of young women in urban subway advertisements.  What might strike us is the playfulness of these four women, their focus out to the viewer rather than to work they are engaged in.  They seem to have leisure time, time to spend with each other rather than work, wearing "modern" (Western?) clothing (though most of "Western" clothing is of course now made in places like China, Vietnam, and Bangladesh).  In China now, it's not obvious, at least for middle-class big-city young women, what their futures may be, and what role their own decisions can play in how their lives turn out.  Will they decide to marry?  Have a child?  Go to college?  Even go abroad to study?

One Sunday afternoon in Beijing, as I wandered about (while Barbara was working with a dozen young women, aged 20-40, on issues of relationships, love, independence and boundaries in a three-day workshop), I got off the Metro and walked directly into an affluent mall (unplanned--the subway exit and this mall entrance were the same).

Weary, I pop into a Costa Coffee (there's also a Starbuck's but I prefer the British-based Costa chain).  The place is packed with young folks, and I'm happy to accept the kind gesture of a young man to share his table (though the lack of each other's language means a conversation will be unlikely).  After I revive a bit,  I walk the mall, amidst crowds of mostly-young folks, often but not always couples, enjoying a Sunday apart from work or school.

School--then university?  Many young people have hopes, but must first take the annual "gaokao" exams which will largely determine how prestigious the university will be to which they are eligible to attend (if at all).  In recent years, more young Chinese students have decided to go abroad for college, if their families can afford it (which many now can, given the growing wealth of the more affluent in China, and some of them have come to St. Olaf College where I taught).  And if you look carefully at the large illumined advertisement in the background of the photo at left, you'll see "SAT" and "ACT."  What we're seeing here is one of the advertisements offering to help students be "800" (or top scorers when they take exams that might give them more opportunities for a college education abroad).

In another part of the mall there are additional wall-size advertisements.  Note the one at right: we see a young woman, holding a textbook--but also (literally) walking on water, the River Thames in London.  I'm not sure what the underlying appeal of study abroad might be--though probably some of it might be current familiarity with Western societies and their youth cultures,  now so visible in social media.  Study abroad might also be an opportunity for those who did less well on their gaokao than they'd hoped.  It might also involve hopes to deepen their English skills, or to establish the possibility of moving to the West if they are uncertain about what direction China may be headed.  Young Chinese folks (my impression) are critical of some of the West's politics and proud of their Chinese heritage, yet some may also wonder about China's future (population?  pollution?  politics?).  Would  the West be a viable (even preferable) alternative to them personally?

In another wall poster in the same mall, seen at left,  the message is "A Better You, a Bigger World!"  We see four young folks, several of whom are standing on stacks of textbooks, some holding them in their arms.  There's an appeal here to personal growth and adventure, of a kind that's "modern" in the way that the earlier revolutionary appeal to "serve the people" perhaps no longer is.  Of course, I have to remember that the possibility to choose to study abroad, is limited to a small portion of China's young folks.

I aso see many, many young people working at jobs that may not offer much upward mobility--working as servers or clerks at small shops and cafes, for example.  One morning as I walked from our hotel to find some breakfast, I paused at the sidewalk celebration for the opening of a new "spa" (mostly a hair salon, as far as I could see).  Lots of color, banners, drumming, lion costumes and dancing, ribbon-cutting, and so forth.  And most of those involved seemed to be 20-somethings.  For those working at the spa, would this be temporary work?  A youthful "first job"?  Rewarding?  A dead end?  An alternative to factory work?

I was often reminded, as I got lost from time to time in search of some ever-receding destination, that while many fewer Chinese are now desperately poor, many are still doing manual or service work that involves long hours and perhaps little economic insecurity.  At left we see one of the many small trucks that are the drop-off points for those who go about scavenging for recyclables--sometimes metals, often cardboard, sometimes plastic bottles, or glass.  They bring what they find to such trucks for sorting and weighing (getting a certain amount per kilo depending on the worth of the materials).

Some near our hotel began their day early in the morning, and scavengers would still be bringing in materials on their bicycles or carts late in the day.  Those working on the truck itself might by the time evening arrived have their small children sitting in the cab while a parent worked to get the truck  loaded for a central collection center.  Few now starve in China, but the young may have a strong incentive to go to university if they can to find a future that's more promising than is likely available to those without more education (or the support of affluent parents).

Many young folks seem to find work (if not necessarily a future) in service sector work: information, transportation, working in the many small shops or in the large shopping malls that draw many to browse and sometimes buy.  At right we see the street where we would sometimes get breakfast, as the day began: we can see the young man delivering the first of his many cardboard boxes full of the things the shops need.  Others sell food from the dozen or so stands and cafes lining the block where other young people are getting something to eat on the way to work or school.

Note too the yellow bicycles which are available through several different start-up companies to get people back on their bicycles, which in recent years had been losing out to vehicle traffic which a generation ago seemed quite srare.  Younger folks ride the bikes to work, but also drive the small trucks that one sees collecting them wherever they've been left by their riders (not a sign of negligence, but part of the way in which the biking programs draw participants--you can pick up a bike wherever, and leave it for another rider when you're done).  The resurgence of bicycle "traffic" has also encouraged the government to provide bicycle and motorbike "parking lots" so that those who wish can have a place to park their transport preference for the return trip home, creating places near Metro lines and elsewhere seen in the photo above at left.

What's for breakfast in the street cafes, you wonder?  It depends--long, deep-fried "donut" sticks are popular, as well as a variety of either steamed buns (with a vegetable or minced meat filling) or fried dumplings (also wth fillings).  At left we also see a fried egg next to the bun, and there is often a variety of what look like soups called "congees" (variations on the basic rice-based congee with a few other ingredients, a somewhat thick mixture)--a basic breakfast food.  I liked the millet cereal dish shown at left (which seemed a cousin to oatmeal), cooked with a dozen or so red dates (popular in their own right at small food stands or grocery stores).

It's often hard to find coffee, but we've often been staying in neighborhoods where non-Chinese are rarely seen and which are more affordable.  Coffee's more likely to be found in upper-end shopping areas or with tourist attractions that draw a more international crowd (or sometimes in the small bakeries with bread products that we're seeing more of).

This might a reminder to ourselves (and you, gentle reader) that our time in China involves the sorts of folks with whom Barbara is working, and those who ride the Metro rather than driving a fancy car to work, and those who live and work in the kinds of neighborhoods where, often, we seem to be one of the few folks who aren't local and Mandarin-speaking.

More specifically, most of our experiences (and, increasingly, friendships) are with youngish and well-educated women, and ones who are most interested in working with and helping others using new approaches (like music and dance therapy) to which Barbara can make a contribution.  Above we see Barbara with three of those people, who've completed their schooling and training but who may face challenges in their therapeutic work that classroom training alone won't always have covered.  I think Barbara has been a helpful and sympathetic mentor, in spite of (and sometimes because of) cultural and generational differences.

As the three above bade Barbara farewell (until, perhaps, another visit) [note to self: is "bade farewell" hopelessly anachronistic?!], there were hugs all around, and one of the young women said to me "Goodbye, thank you, Teacher-Husband," which caused us all to laugh.  It was a humorous and old-fashioned way to categorize who I was--but one that made sense in a culture and language in which terms of address are often shaped by age, family, and respect.  These may be modern young women, but they are also modern Chinese women.

I sign off for now, but I think Barbara will have one more post.  And we'll be blogging again when Barbara goes to Seoul for the first time, this summer (and takes me along!).   Bruce