Tibetan villagers enjoying life more after relocation
Traditional operators take up posts on pavements to offer cheaper, convenient haircuts. Li Hongyang reports.
Because its harsh environment is one of the main causes of poverty, the Tibet autonomous region has been striving to relocate residents to more inhabitable places as a key part of its poverty alleviation efforts.
More than 260,000 residents have been relocated to more inhabitable places in the region over the past five years, according to the region’s latest government work report
Unlike most of the region’s resettlement projects, which address problems related to living in inhospitable places at extremely high altitudes, the project in Bupal village, Zayul county, Nyingchi, is helping families deal with limited resources.
With an investment of more than 70 million yuan ($11 million), the project involves 365 people in 65 households who were moved from
Tsawarong — a remote, impoverished township in Zayul county lacking farmland — in 2015.
Village officials said the residents were mainly from Bupal, but also included villagers from Tsawarong’s five other villages. The new resettlement in Zayul is also named Bupal.
In Tsawarong they lived on a mountain slope and often had trouble with transportation, housing and obtaining safe drinking water.
The new location has an average altitude of 1,600 meters and a subtropical monsoon climate. With adequate rainfall throughout the year, it is suitable for raising crops.
In the new Bupal, the villagers have been provided with new houses, safe drinking water and other basic facilities such as schools, clinics and libraries.
Villager Adi said that before relocating, his family lived on the shoulder of a big mountain, where the transportation was so inconvenient that it took him two days to travel from his village to the township seat. Farming was the only source of income for his family.
“It took me two hours walking from my home to the unirrigated field, cultivating the crops by using mules and horses, and people also carried things on their backs,” Adi said.
“There was no hospital in our village before 2015, and we had to walk or ride a horse for up to two days to get to the township for our medical needs,” he said, adding that the hospital was 20 kilometers away from the village. “Now we have a clinic in the village with two medics working here every day.”
Adi said education is also more accessible in Bupal now.
“In the past, the school was so far away that the dropout rate was high in the village,” he said. “Many people were reluctant to go, but now, going to school is much more convenient.”
To earn money, many villagers are now participating in a fruit plantation cooperative, and they also receive border subsidies.
The fruit plantation was started in 2017. Villagers who worked on it between 2017 and 2018 collectively earned more than 700,000 yuan.
Last year, each villager received a dividend of 1,200 yuan from the co-op. Adi’s family received 6,000 yuan, as his family has five people.
Before 2015, when they were living on the mountain slope, Adi’s family income was less than 10,000 yuan. In 2019, it increased to about 40,000 yuan, and it was more than 50,000 yuan last year.
“I am pleased with the new relocation site,” he said. “Here, we live in a better house which is brighter, has more space and is more comfortable.”
Adi said the new house also has a bathroom, which is clean and convenient, and there are more rooms, so his family has more private spaces.
“Benefiting from an overall lift by living in a new relocation site, the variety of our diet has also increased,” he said. “Instead of just having barley or corn dishes, now we have more choices on our dining table.”
On a January afternoon, temperatures in Beijing fell to -10 C during an unexpected cold snap. People rushed around the streets with their jacket hoods pulled up to protect their faces from the bitter wind.
Despite the cold, an elderly woman was providing haircuts for residents outside an apartment block in Haidian district.
Using a corner of the building to shield her from the icy blasts and dressed snugly in a down jacket, cap and cotton shoes, she used an old bicycle to carry her tools, including clippers, a broom, a stool and a card printed with a QR code for mobile payment.
Xing Xiuzhen, from Chengde, Hebei province, has been plying her trade at the spot since November. Though she once owned two barber salons in the capital, the 60-year-old is one of many older people who have turned to on-street, freelance barber work to pay the bills.
Her attempts to establish a hairdressing empire nearly 30 years ago ended in failure. In 1995, she traveled to Beijing, leaving her husband and two daughters at home in Chengde, and rented a 60-square-meter salon near what is now Zhongguancun Science Park, a tech hub.
She later opened a second salon, but was forced to close it in 2008 because the manager she had employed failed to run the shop properly. When her business failed, Xing took work on construction sites and eventually moved in with one of her daughters, who had relocated to Beijing to work for a hightech company.
As she has no pension, the senior now earns a living through her hairdressing skills.
New broom
During the past decade, momand-pop barbershops have been squeezed out nationwide, so chain salons now dominate the market.
As Chinese people become wealthier and more demanding about beauty standards, they want delicate designs to enhance the look and style of their hair.
The sector initially expanded by encouraging a large number of young people to gain hairdressing skills and join the booming market.
Meanwhile, a range of new elements, including fashionable salons decorated like factories and playing background music popular on streaming apps, have convinced
customers that such accessories are the height of fashion.
Better services mean higher prices, though, so customers can expect to pay hundreds of yuan for a haircut. By contrast, Xing charges just 15 yuan ($2.30) per person.
“Salon fees are too high. I set up my barber spot for people who earn their money the hard way and can’t afford such places,” she said, adding that she has about 20 customers a day.
Despite her popularity with locals, the apartment block’s managers are more concerned about appearances. They often ask her to leave, saying she is occupying a public space, but they have never forced her to vacate the spot.
“I am not worried about being expelled or losing business. I have savings and my daughter always gives me about 20,000 yuan from her year-end bonus,” Xing said.
“I can make the best of things and move around nearby neighborhoods to conduct my business.”
A bitter life
Li, a 50-something barber who would only give her surname, said her life is tough.
As footfall is plentiful on the streets near the Beijing Anzhen Hospital in Chaoyang district, she conducts her business at the roadside.
The wind blows the cuttings onto the ground and Li is often too busy to clean up immediately.
A street sweeper responsible for the road walks past her often, but he usually ignores his duty as he is confident that the freelance barber he sees every day will eventually get around to doing the job.
However, the local street inspectors refuse to ignore the problem, and they often tell Li and two other barbers who work nearby to leave the area.
Li used to work as a saleswoman at a clothing store in a shopping mall. However, constantly lifting boxes left her with periarthritis, or “frozen shoulder”, a condition that
limits arm movement, meaning she was no longer able to work regular hours. Instead, she turned to on-street hairdressing, a skill she learned in her youth.
“It’s hard work to lift up my arms while trimming customers’ hair, but I have no choice. Life is hard for people at my age,” she said.
Mature infrastructure
Unlike Xing’s attempts to found a business empire in the 1990s, Ye Wangeng, who runs 150 chain salons nationwide, has found it easy to expand as China’s small-business infrastructure is now more mature.
He said it was inevitable that such salons would replace all the momand-pop shops because their staff members regularly receive training so they can cater to customers who demand the latest styles.
The 41-year-old has stores in Shanghai, Tianjin, the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region and the provinces of Zhejiang, Anhui and Jiangsu. He employs more than 3,000 people.
“A hairdresser who doesn’t keep learning can’t survive in the industry. Some street hairdressers never had the ambition to learn or improve,” he said.
In 2000, after five years as an apprentice, Ye rented some premises and started his own hair salon. A year later, he opened his second outlet and his career took off as his salons spread across East China.
“Only by opening more salons could I guarantee a sustainable business. If I just rented one salon, I would never be secure because the landlord might suddenly terminate the lease,” he said.
Low prices
A 68-year-old Beijing resident who gave his surname as Wang said he goes to street barbers because their prices are low and he can be sure of getting an old-style cut.
“Barber shops in Beijing charge too much, and I’m unwilling to stretch my slender pension to pay them. I’d rather go to a street barber. I was angry about an experience I had at a fancy barber shop. The young barber cut my hair in a fashionable style, shaving both sides and leaving a tuft of hair in the middle. I disliked it and felt ashamed when I visited old friends with that funny haircut,” he said.
“Barbers on the street, most of whom are about my own age, know the type of cut I want; they charge much less and work quickly.”
He said he understands that it is the inspectors’ duty to reduce clutter on the streets, but elderly residents like him need the convenience provided by people such as street barbers.
Xing said the property managers at her apartment block have promised to find a room where she can provide a service for residents, but so far there have been no developments.
“I like the idea and I think my regular customers will, as well. They need a cheap indoor barbershop, too,” she said.