The village of Dalaochi is the only settlement
along a stretch of road in mountainous Northwest Gansu province. The village's
mud-brick buildings seem to be a continuation of the khaki-colored earth on
which they're built.
Farmer Wei Zijian squats at the entrance to the village, sipping from a jar
of green tea. The reason he's not out planting wheat, corn and potatoes is
simple.
Wei Zijian (L) and his
cousin Wei Xiaowu in the courtyard of the younger Wei's home. Almost all
the families in Dalaochi are surnamed Wei.
[NPR] |
"They won't grow," he says. "There hasn't been enough rain this year."
In fact, there hasn't been enough rain here for 10 years.
Life in poverty-stricken Dalaochi exemplifies how far some rural areas lag
behind China's cities. It also illustrates the tremendous challenges the Chinese
government faces in improving life for Chinese farmers.
Dalaochi is located on Northwest China's arid loess plateau, an area about
the size of France. Loess soil is basically compacted dust. Stripped of trees
and grass, the soil is easily blown or washed away by wind or water.
To eke out a living in these barren badlands of soaring cliffs and plunging
ravines would appear to be an amazing feat of survival. But people have farmed
the land here for at least 2,000 years, terracing the hills into a landscape of
giant steps.
On the rare occasions when it does rain, locals catch water in concrete
cisterns built outside each home.
At the village temple, residents of Dalaochi pray to the Dragon King, who in
Chinese folk religion is said to bring clouds and rain. Still, agriculture
doesn't yield enough to live on, and Wei and other locals subsist on government
handouts.
Traditionally, the majority of loess plateau inhabitants lived in caves dug
into the hillsides.
Many people on China's
loess plateau live in caves dug into the hillsides. The cave dwellings are
generally warm in the winter and cool in the summer. This is the door to
Wei Zijian's cave home. [NPR] |
Wei, for example, used to reside in the cave dwelling where he was born 50
years ago. Inside, a traditional kang, or heated sleeping platform, dominates
the main room. Newspapers covering the wall fall away in places to reveal the
earth underneath. Two more rooms extend deeper into the hillside.
The good news for Wei is that he's moved out of his cave and into a new,
one-room house just steps away. He bought it for about $350.
Another source of pride for Wei is his two teenage children's academic
achievement; he beams as he displays their certificates for excellence in
school. Wei himself never learned to read or write.
To pay for the children's school fees, Wei says his wife has been working as
a migrant laborer for the past 10 years. She makes $70 to $80 a month weaving
grain sacks, twice as much as what Wei earns from farming.
When asked what his greatest hope for his children is, his answer is
immediate.
"College," he says confidently. "We'll take out a loan to cover their college
tuition, just as we have for their high school education."
His family has lived in Dalaochi for generations, longer than anyone can
remember. Dalaochi is one of the few villages left in the area. Most of the
others have been relocated.
Wei Zijian proudly
displays a certificate of excellence his son earned for being one of the
best students in his class. [NPR] |
"As soon as my kids graduate from college and get jobs elsewhere, we old
folks are going to leave here and go live with them," he says, without a trace
of nostalgia in his voice. "It doesn't rain. There's just no way to live here."
Things have definitely improved in Dalaochi. In the past decade, the village
has gotten electricity and most families now have televisions. Yet many older
village residents have never seen a train or airplane. Most are so poor they
can't afford to eat meat except at Chinese New Year.
China's government has recently outlined its vision of
building a "new socialist countryside" that is clean, prosperous and democratic.
Dalaochi shows just how far they have to go.