My parents were brought up during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960’s. Times were hard, then. If you know anything about history you would know how many died from famine, disease and starvation. It stands as a black mark in China’s great history. Today, the country stands on the brink of global domination and is widely recognized as the next world superpower. But back then, Mao Zedong’s sweeping vision of Chinese society was in its infancy, and one of the world’s fastest growing populations was struggling to find its bearing, as if a country of teething toddlers gumming uncooked rice in its quest for sustenance. It was a time of hardship and adversity, the effects of which impacted Chinese culture so deeply that even now, more than fifty years later, these are two qualities very much valued in both the individual and society. There is a popular Chinese saying, chi ku, meaning ‘eat bitter,’ which reminds us of our past and tells us that in order to fully appreciate the good things in life, one first has to endure hardship.
My parents are farmers of sorts. We don’t own our own land, instead working someone else’s rice and potato fields, which makes them even lower on the social scale than farmers. Peasants, some might say. But they are happy peasants and I love them dearly. Despite their lowly stature my parents always did their best to provide for me, even going without in order to give me what I wanted. My dream is to one day become self-sufficient, and gain the ability to look after myself so I won’t have to always ask them for money and things they don’t have. I feel I owe my parents a debt of gratitude.
Modern China is expanding, modernizing and accumulating wealth at a rate never seen before in history. This applies mainly to the large, thriving cities like Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou, but there is a knock-on effect that impacts every level of society, down to the most isolated rural villages and everywhere in between.
When the Hunan provincial government wanted to trade land located around my hometown of Loudi to developers, they first had to buy it from the people whose families had owned the plots for generations. My parents and I, along with many other families, were forced to relocate, and as compensation the government gave each family a brand-new three-story house in another part of the city and a lump sum which amounted to around five years earnings for most of us. It was more than enough to pay for my education.