TFF HumanJournal | The Invisible Fold: Where Rural Dreams Meet Urban Reality in Modern China

Noah Liu, The Forbidden Flourish

October 27, 2024 09:00

Managing Editor: Tommy Kuang

Editor's Note

The life of a Beijing housekeeper reveals an old but unsolved social problem in China. These issues continue to surface in stories that, while perhaps not new, remain moving.

Four years ago, our previous housekeeper suddenly resigned. As a crucial member of our household, her departure left our home in disarray, and my mother searched everywhere among friends and relatives for a suitable replacement. We thought recommendations from acquaintances would increase the chances of finding someone suitable, but these attempts ultimately failed. Finally, my mother turned to domestic service agencies.

That's how we met Feifei.

I've forgotten the exact circumstances of our first meeting, but I remember being immediately impressed by her cooking skills. Before we knew it, she had been living with us for four years. Due to her quiet nature and my own awkwardness at conversation, I knew very little about her. I only knew that she worked in Beijing with her husband and had an eleven or twelve-year-old child attending school back in her hometown in Shanxi.

In our home, while Feifei wasn't particularly quick with words, she was exceptionally good at housework. She approached her work meticulously, treating our home as if it were her own, always keeping it neat and orderly. Feifei treated people with the same care - though not verbally expressive, she was very thoughtful.

She treated my sister and me like her own children, frequently researching new recipes online to cook for us, and even hand-embroidered an insole as a birthday gift for my sister.I often felt that such a dedicated and capable person was somewhat overqualified to be working as a housekeeper for a modest salary.

(Chinese housekeeper)

Part One: The People Between Rural and Urban

Feifei began factory work at seventeen, later becoming a clothing retail associate in Linfen, Shanxi. In 2006, her monthly salary of 430 yuan seemed adequate. However, this financial comfort disappeared after starting a family, particularly after having children. "Life was manageable without family obligations, but with a household now, expenses have multiplied," Feifei explains.

With their child's birth and their parents' retirement, Feifei and her husband embarked on their journey to major cities, shouldering family responsibilities. According to Feifei, approximately one-third of young people from their village made similar choices, while the remaining two-thirds opted for county-level employment rather than farming. Agricultural lands were left to the elderly, and when they became unable to farm, the fields were contracted out. The younger generation's exodus from farming stems from its economic infeasibility - with an average of two mu (approximately 0.13 hectares) per household, even earning 1,000 yuan annually per mu would be considered fortunate. To verify this phenomenon's prevalence, I recently encountered an elderly farmer in rural Hangzhou, far from Feifei's hometown.

Using his thick southern accent, he emphatically stated, "Profit? Impossible! I'd rather let weeds grow than farm now - it's nothing but losses!" (While this account may contain some hyperbole, it reflects certain realities -- Noah.)

(The Zhejiang Countryside. Hangzhou is the capital city of Zhejiang Province.)

Feifei notes that even her parents didn't rely solely on farming, supplementing their income with small business ventures. Today's agricultural mechanization has further reduced labor demands. Tasks that once required manual labor - sowing, irrigation, pesticide application, and harvesting - can now be accomplished by one person with machinery across hundreds of mu. This shift has forced surplus rural labor to seek alternative employment. Young people naturally gravitate toward county seats or nearby first-tier cities. Though never truly farmers themselves, they bear the label "migrant workers."

They exist within cities yet never fully belong. They are the people caught between rural and urban worlds.

"Basic service industry jobs in the county offer maximum monthly wages of 3,000 yuan. Village elders' retirement pensions of barely over 100 yuan monthly are insufficient for survival. Considering private school fees for children's better education and saving for county housing - these are all our responsibilities," Feifei explains with a surprisingly serene expression. "One person earning 3,000, two people 6,000 - without migrating for work, these expenses would be impossible to meet."

Currently, their combined Beijing income approaches several thousand yuan, most of which they remit home. Those familiar with Beijing's cost of living understand that such an income hardly guarantees a comfortable life in the capital, yet they manage to save the majority - a result of extreme frugality.

"We spend 1,300 yuan monthly renting a room in an urban village, plus 800 yuan each for personal expenses. That's our entire budget," Feifei remarks.

(CBD in Beijing city center)

Part Two: The Unattainable Beijing Hukou: Legacy of a Dual System

(A Chinese "Hukou" Household Register)

(The hukou system - China's decades-old household registration regime - functions as an internal "passport" that tethers citizens' fundamental rights and opportunities to their place of birth, creating an invisible but powerful barrier between rural and urban populations that persists despite economic modernization.)

To secure legitimate employment in Beijing, one requires a Beijing residence permit. While this differs from the coveted Beijing hukou (household registration) in terms of benefits, it generally suffices for migrant workers' basic needs, providing access to Beijing's medical insurance and social security. Under the current residence permit system, household registration ostensibly presents minimal barriers for temporary workers. Feifei's husband, employed by a property management company, holds an official position with comprehensive benefits. His Beijing residence permit enables social security contributions and medical coverage in the capital.

However, the reality proves more complex. Despite qualifying for a residence permit through her private household employment, Feifei opted against registration, consequently forfeiting Beijing medical coverage and associated legal protections.

When questioned about managing potential illness in Beijing, she responds with a telling smile: "In all these years in Beijing, I've never fallen ill."

The absence of residence permit registration doesn't stem from ineligibility. According to official requirements, qualification is relatively modest, or, not that hard: six months' residence in Beijing, coupled with either legal stable employment, legitimate housing, or continuous education. The application process, requiring only relevant documentation submission to local public security authorities, typically concludes within fifteen working days.

Migrant workers without formal labor contracts often dismiss residence permit registration as superfluous. This oversight can precipitate severe consequences, particularly regarding medical emergencies where the absence of insurance coverage may impose catastrophic financial burdens. The enhancement of residence permit benefits alone proves insufficient in protecting migrant workers' rights. Additional governmental initiatives, including public awareness campaigns and potential mandatory registration requirements, may be necessary to ensure comprehensive access to basic civil rights protections.

The rural-urban dichotomy extends beyond Beijing's borders. While China officially abolished the dual urban-rural household registration system in 2016, Feifei reports its persistent influence in her hometown of Linfen, Shanxi Province. Contrary to public discourse favoring the system's elimination, Feifei views this stratification as somewhat inevitable in contemporary Chinese society. She and her village peers actively retain their agricultural hukou, motivated by two primary factors: land rights exclusive to agricultural registration and substantial compensation potential in the event of requisition.

Yet the educational implications of this system present undeniable challenges. Despite physical separation from her son, Feifei has invested considerable attention in his education, particularly during his critical primary-to-secondary school transition. Recognizing the limitations of her absence, she enrolled him in a private primary school offering superior educational quality. While her son has consistently achieved academic excellence, his agricultural hukou restricts him to village schools with notably low advancement rates.

Urban public school attendance requires either substantial "introduction fees"(介绍费) - ranging from 30,000 to 50,000 yuan through profit-seeking educational agencies - or annual private school tuition of 22,000 yuan. Feifei chose the latter option. While this expenditure represents a significant burden, the aspiration for intergenerational mobility through education renders it necessary. Such educational investments, while barely manageable for dual-income migrant families like Feifei's, remain entirely out of reach for county-based households. Enrollment in village secondary schools effectively terminates academic advancement prospects.

(An Urban Chinese Countryside Classroom)

As this article neared completion, Feifei received notice of impending urban village demolition, necessitating relocation within a week. The most affordable alternative housing commands a monthly rent of 2,000 yuan.

And yes, again, Feifei and her companions are neither peasants nor urbanites - a vast population suspended in China's societal limbo. Too ambitious to remain in their villages, too systematically marginalized to truly belong in their adopted cities, they represent the human cost of China's rapid urbanization.

As their dwellings face demolition and their children navigate educational barriers, millions like Feifei continue to inhabit this precarious space between rural exodus and urban belonging - a living testament to the unfinished story of Chinese modernization.

Layout Editor: Georgina, Dylan

Website Editor: Tommy