Shaoxing, Zhejiang: ‘By the time I graduate, my city will be a mere district within a whole new metropolitan area’
When I introduce myself to my American classmates, I insist on stating my native language is Wu-Chinese. That’s true, because my entire family tree has been in the city of Shaoxing for more than a century. Since the day I was born, I was surrounded by Wu-Chinese speakers with Shaoxing’s dialect.
In my blurred memory, everything was simpler then: a medium-sized city with a population of a quarter of a million, historical districts under a big blue sky. I grew up with Shaoxing, from the completion of its business district to the opening of its high-speed railway station. But now I have had to leave – and I will not be returning after college, because Shaoxing provides so few opportunities that my education will go to waste if I take a job there.
This situation happens in almost every third-tier city in China. Our families invest time and energy to ensure we have a good-quality higher education, and they hope we can find a job in megacities worldwide where resources are much more abundant than our humble hometowns. People from rural areas surge into my hometown to work, whereas natives like me seek every possible way to escape.
However, Shaoxing is developing and expanding. A new science and technology hall opened in 2015, and a new specialist hospital close to my neighbourhood. Urbanisation alone cannot fix Shaoxing’s problem, though. Like many other Chinese cities, Shaoxing’s finances heavily rely on land revenue, but the housing market is now in constant downturn because of cultivating surplus.
National policies never favoured third-tier cities either; we are practically on our own. Shaoxing is losing its energy. While citizens here fight rigorously to maintain the city’s historical cultural value, its native language is dying, and there’s no easy way to resolve this conundrum.
Today, Shaoxing in part is about to merge with its provincial capital, Hangzhou. By the time I graduate from college, my city will likely be a mere district in a larger metropolitan area. While rural counties undergo their change in modern China, small cities like mine silently perish, and the only way out is to be devoured. Metro lines stretch their way under the place we’ve been calling home for more than 2,500 years; yet everyone dreams for somewhere bigger – someplace beyond – wistfully leaving this behind. (Donghe Lyu 栋赫)
Yantai, Shandong: ‘I have a love-hate relationship with my city’
I was born in Yantai, a coastal city in eastern China. Its size is almost the same as Beijing and population similar to Washington DC, but it’s classified as between 2nd and 3rd tier because of its economy.
Having started as a small fishing village of little importance in the 19th century, the city has transformed into a major seaport. Urbanisation has not only brought glitzy shopping malls and cultural centres such as theatres and libraries but also a homogenised skyline. Economic and societal progress can be felt everywhere.
For the last six years I have been living in Beijing, but I recently made the difficult decision to return home. In many people’s eyes, Yantai equals fresh air and endless seafood, but my expectation goes beyond that. I do love my birthplace and feel proud of it but still cannot help resenting its residents’ lack of vision and aversion to novelty.
As opposed to Beijing or Shenzhen where changes are welcome, most inhabitants here prefer a cosy and peaceful life even if that comes at the cost of inconvenient transportation and “brain drain”. Yantai didn’t have any EMU train until 2014, when more than 150 cities in China had already introduced high-speed railway. A subway system has been in the pipeline for almost seven years without making much visible headway.
Failing to be friendly with newcomers results in a relatively stagnant development compared with that of other second-tier cities in China. There are also insufficient job openings, which makes it less appealing to attract talents of all fields.
You might ask why I still left Beijing, knowing my home carries so many flaws. The simplest reason is, though my salary supported my daily life, I could hardly afford the stratospheric house prices in the capital. In addition, the horrendous smog in the city made me want to leave.
As the slogan of Yantai goes: “It is difficult to leave the home of love.” I hope the city will improve gradually and enjoy a more vibrant development, maximising its geographical advantages, natural resources and profound cultural heritage. (Yu Qian)
Nanjing, Jiangsu: ‘The farmers were relocated to new flats’
I grew up in Nanjing but now live in Beijing for work. As Beijing becomes increasingly unaffordable, crowded and commercialised, I’m tempted to return to my home town. The city shares Beijing’s advantages such as beautiful historical buildings, interesting cultural activities and openness to outsiders. However, because Nanjing is smaller, and thanks to its location in the prosperous Yangtze Delta region, the average social welfare is higher than in Beijing. It is also more affordable and has better infrastructure, food and more green spaces.
Infrastructure in Nanjing is among the best you could find in China today. There are currently seven underground lines, making its total urban railway length the fifth-longest in the country after Shanghai, Beijing, Guangzhou and Shenzhen. The recently founded district of Xianlin on the east side of Nanjing – an area dedicated to research and academia – was still rural 10 years ago. However, if you wander into Xianlin today, you will find yourself surrounded by university campuses, shopping malls, green spaces and housing.
My parents now live in one of the new residential areas in Xianlin, and I learnt from them that when development took place there, the local farmers got fair compensation from the government: they were permitted to remain in the area and were relocated to new flats.
I cannot yet tell whether the relatively harmonious urban development of Xianlin is the exception or the rule in China. Should I one day be priced out of Beijing, I know there is a decent place I can return to. The same cannot be said of many migrant workers in Beijing. (Horatia Ren)
Honghu, Hubei: ‘People spend their savings on building houses’
My hometown, Honghu, is a third- or even fourth-tier city and one that is essentially formed from a number of small towns. The city’s Hong Lake is the biggest fresh lake in Hubei, so we never lack seafood. I love Honghu, and also regret that it does not live up to my expectations.
Around 2000, when I was in high school, my neighbours and friends started leaving one after another. It made me really upset. Eventually I learned this was because of the reform of the teaching system. Without decent salaries and job security, many chose to leave their jobs. Some decided to work in a different business, some just went to big cities and became teachers or managers in private schools. A lot of people have moved away, leaving behind their children or the older generation.
My father went to work for a private school after leaving his job. He had a good salary in the new company but came back after six months. Leaving your hometown – where you have lived for nearly all your life – is not easy.
Meanwhile, like in other cities across China, house prices have shot up. Many rural residents bought houses in the city centre and moved here. Single-storey buildings have been built up to two, three, four or more storeys. I think people spend most of their savings on building houses; the taller their house is, the prouder they feel (it’s like a status symbol in Chinese culture). (Sabrina Zhou)
Hefei, Anhui: ‘The speed of change is amazing, but I’m very sceptical about it’
The main problem with Hefei is it’s extremely boring. Zero cultural events. The main change has been the price of property, which has really soared over the past few years. The price of the flat my family bought in 2009 has at least doubled. In the last six months, since I left for university in London, Hefei has opened its first underground line, several shopping malls and now has an abundance of bike shares. I probably won’t recognise the city when I return in June. I have to say the speed of change is amazing, but I’m very sceptical about it. (C. Gu)
Wuhan, Hubei: ‘My parents bought this flat only as an investment’
Sanderien Verstappen and Willy Sier from the University of Amsterdam talk to Wendy, whose parents bought a flat in fast-developing Wuhan despite not living in it. Wendy visits the empty flat two or three times a month but still considers it “home”.
Thank you to all those who contributed their stories to us over WeChat and email
Guardian Cities is dedicating a week to the huge but often unreported cities on the front line of China’s unprecedented urbanisation. Explore our coverage here and follow us on Facebook. Share stories via WeChat (add: GuardianCities) and by using #OtherChina on Twitter and Instagram
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