In China, a vast chasm between the Rich and the Rest by China Dialogue & agencies 2:05am 13th Feb, 2013   In China, a vast chasm between the Rich and the Rest, by Sim Chi Yin.    BEIJING — The passing coal miners in remote Shaanxi Province took one look at our marooned Audi and walked on, leaving us stuck on the sleet-covered mountain road.    As dusk fell, I managed to mingle with some young migrant workers, and trek with them through a snowy mountain pass and onto the last bus for the day. “We thought you were rich city people, coming out here in an Audi,” one worker told me. “That’s why no one helped you.”    He had become chatty only after I assured him that I had taken a ride in a friend’s Audi — the car make of choice for Chinese government officials — only because I was rushing out to the mountains to visit a dying villager I had been photographing over for a year.    The disdain that working-class Chinese have for the rich did not surprise me; it was a timely reminder of the sentiments surrounding the growing chasm between the haves and the have-nots in China.    This gulf, between the prosperous and booming cities and the poor rural areas, has been expanding since the 1990s.    Along with official corruption, inequality is a major source of social unrest. In Chinese cybercommunities, where sentiments are aired honestly and anonymously, cynical and celebratory comments abound over any spectacular fall of the wealthy, corrupt or privileged.    Often, anger erupts over the arrogant misbehavior of the “fu er dai” — the children of wealthy families, who often have powerful political connections. On Tuesday, the government announced a vague plan to address “stark problems in income distribution.”    Last month, China reported that income inequality peaked in 2008 and has narrowed since then, though many economists believe the problem is understated. For the first time in 12 years, the government reported figures for the Gini coefficient — an indicator of inequality. It said the coefficient was 0.474 last year, down from a high of 0.491 in 2008. (Zero would represent perfect equality, and 1 would represent complete inequality.) The Gini coefficient for the United States, after taxes and transfers, is 0.378 through the late 2000s, according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development.    China has 2.7 million millionaires and 251 billionaires (in United States dollars). But 13 percent of its people live on less than $1.25 per day, according to United Nations data. Meanwhile, average annual disposable income in the cities is about $3,500.    Over the past year or so, the income gap in China has been one focus of my work.    In Shanghai, I followed around a trash collector, Zhang Chunying, 47, riding on the back of her cardboard- and plastic-laden tricycle past Gucci and Ermenegildo Zegna stores at the Xintiandi shopping and entertainment district. By collecting and selling cardboard and other recyclables, Ms. Zhang and her husband make about $15 a day, which they are using to put their son through college.    I also photographed migrant workers on a street in downtown Shanghai that turns into a flea market at night. They stand around picking out used clothes and shoes to buy for a few dollars. Some got upset with me for documenting what they see as their embarrassing existence.    In Beijing, I photographed a curbside cobbler, Gao Minghe, 48, just across the street from five-star hotels and an alley behind stores selling Aston Martins and Maseratis. He repairs the shoes of migrant and office workers from dawn till dusk, rain, shine or snow.    Beneath the skyscrapers and apartment blocks in the capital, a parallel universe of inhabitants lives in cramped, boxy, windowless rooms partitioned out of basements. These subterranean dwellers — which the local press unkindly calls the “rat tribe” — are migrant workers in the service industry. Over two years, I made portraits of these women and men, trying to show their dignity and aspirations.    I have also shot the so-called “ant tribe,” which comprises graduates from provincial and unprestigious universities who flock to the capital in search of their Beijing Dream, only to find themselves working low-paying jobs and living in dorm-style hostels on the outskirts of the city. Years after graduating, they still live like students and cuddle in dark parking lots for lack of a space to call their own. Most were happy to chat and share their stories.    Hours after photographing this tribe, I was with another. I hung out with the young and wealthy members of a sports car club who did practice rounds in their McLarens, Lamborghinis, Ferraris and Porsches at a racetrack in Beijing. Decked out in Prada shoes, holding Louis Vuitton bags and escorted by their trophy girlfriends, who never stepped out of their air-conditioned cars, they seemed proud to be photographed by a foreign photographer, but were not forthcoming when asked any personal questions — including the nature of their jobs or the source of their wealth.    With the “rats” and “ants,” the trash collectors, cobblers and couriers, it took time to build rapport and trust. But it was even harder to get wealthy Chinese — perhaps like rich people everywhere — to open up. Most live in gated, guarded communities on the outskirts of the city, and socialize behind closed doors.    Harassed, assaulted and forced from their homes, by Han Ying.    Under Chinese law, land is owned by the state. Recently, economic instability has seen local governments disregard lease terms and forcibly evict residents in order to raise revenue.    Those who refuse to leave their homes are often harassed and assaulted by paid thugs and local police, leading to bloody and sometimes deadly confrontations.    In 2003, Han Ying"s village was destroyed to make way for a commercial estate. She has since become an advocate for others like her.    For generations my family had lived in Bagou village in the Haidian district of Beijing city. In 2003, we received news that land in our village was being sold to developers and nearby residents had to vacate their homes and land.    At that time, our village had approximately 6,000 households, made up of more than 10,000 people. The local government claimed they needed to appropriate our land to build a "greenbelt" for the city, and therefore needed to evict us and demolish our houses.    In reality, all the land of the Bagou village was sold to property agents to build new commercial estate to make big profits. It has been 10 years now since the eviction and the destruction of my village, and since that time no-one was resettled to another location, provided with a house in the same area, or compensated.    During the drawn-out eviction process, the things that happened to my family and village were unbelievable. Over the time it took for officials to force us to leave our home, our water and electricity were cut, the road to enter and exit the village was blocked, people were beaten, and our house was broken into and ransacked.    Harassment and threats targeting villagers happened everyday, and by the end of the few years, we were emotionally and physically traumatised. I witnessed my elderly parents and grandmother suffer in fear for their lives every day; fearful that the land which was their only source of income would be taken away.    When the commercial developer cut the water supply to evict us, my father had to ride a bicycle to get water one kilometre away. The road was rough and many times, when he fell down with his bicycle, water spilled out of the bucket and he got all wet. But he did not give up; he just picked up the bucket and went back to get more water. There were several times his bicycle tire broke and he would drag the bicycle and the bucket of water home. He was tired and sweating when he"d walk through the door. Seeing this, I always shed tears, quietly, because I felt vulnerable. This painful situation lasted for a very long time, but worse was yet to come.    One time, in the middle of the night, thugs hired by a developer armed themselves with wooden and iron sticks and broke into our house. As they walked through, they smashed everything inside it. My 95-year-old grandmother was so scared as they rampaged that she had a heart attack. A few days later, she passed away.    I reported the vicious attack to the Haidian district police station, but they refused to file the case or investigate. They even told me, "You can report to anywhere you want (but there"s nothing we"ll do about it)."    Under the shield of police, just days later the thugs piled loads of rubbish over the entry path to our house, leaving us a tiny space to get outside. Manoeuvring his way through the rubbish, my father fell on the path and broke his thigh bone. He had an operation on his leg to fix the break, but even when it healed he could not walk properly and from then on needed help for daily movement, adding to the suffering of my family.    All of these incidents made me think I had the bitterest life on earth, but as I started to look into how I could defend our rights, I realised there were many more people suffering like us that needed help.    We started to exchange our experiences and work together to get our rights back. Since that time, we have come together to discover the darkness and the corruption that allows these forced evictions to take place. In 2011, I ran in the National People"s Congress (NPC) local representative election; I wish to be an NPC member to be able to monitor the Public Security Bureau (police) and work with the courts to stop them from colluding with criminal thugs that brazenly oppress people.    By far the biggest threat and obstacle to people like me is the harassment from police. You would think the police role would be protecting citizens, however, I encountered many police who actively support the developers and help with their illegal demolitions. Police even prevent us from peacefully protesting the construction work onsite.    During the NPC representative election, police intimidated me and followed me. They monitored my phone conversations and tried to abduct me. They have also prevented me sending my child to school, putting him under surveillance and creating a harmful dark shadow on the innocent heart of my child.    I filed a complaint, brought a law suit to court, used administrative proceedings and shared news of police corruption through social media in order to make them accountable. This generated a lot of community support, and as a result their campaign of oppression has subsided. However, I know they monitor us more closely in secret.    I hope sharing my story will encourage the international community to support the victims of China"s forced evictions. Please consider that many have stories equally or more harrowing than mine.    * Han Ying, 39, is a housing rights activist in China.    Despite recent economic growth, millions of impoverished kids are suffering the irreversible effects of malnutrition. Yuan Ying and Wang Jingyi report from Qinghai province in China.    Ledu county in western China lies 80 kilometres from Xining, the capital of Qinghai province. A yellow-hued river divides the territory and its 300,000 residents into two halves: Nanshan and Beishan. Three-year-old Rong Tongxi lives with his grandparents in Nanshan, in a typical village of the impoverished north-west called Shangzhangfang.    Playing among a group of children, Rong appears markedly smaller than his peers, an observation borne out by his measurements: 84 centimetres in height and 9.4 kilograms in weight. Chen Chunming, nutrition expert and senior advisor to Chinese Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CCDC), winced when she saw these figures. World Health Organisation standards say healthy three-year-olds should be between 91.1 centimetres and 98.7 centimetres tall. Rong is seven centimetres shorter than even the minimum.    Rong’s grandparents say he eats “normally”, but Chen believes he is suffering moderate stunting, a reduced growth rate brought on by malnutrition in early childhood. Its effects are largely irreversible, and can lead to premature death. At least 10 million pre-school children in China have stunted growth, according to a report from CCDC. It’s the second highest population in the world, behind only India. And the incidence of stunting in infants aged six to 11 months is rising.    Rong’s case is no exception in this corner of China, where flour and potatoes are the staple foods. An Jun, head of the township clinic, said annual check-ups indicate at least 15% of children here suffer light or moderate stunting. It’s a problem shared by many other parts of the country too. A CCDC survey in 2010 suggested 9.9% of children under the age of five have stunted growth. In 2006, children’s charity UNICEF said China had at least 12.7 million stunted children.    But child health experts argue the problem has been largely ignored, both within China and worldwide. “In some areas, stunting is very common, so people mistake it for a genetic and unavoidable disease,” said Gillian Mellsop, UNICEF’s China representative.    Like so many other children, Rong’s fate appears sealed. But fortune has looked differently on children across the river in Beishan. In August 2009, nine villages and towns in this half of Ledu county were selected for an infant development programme, run by the China Development Research Foundation and UNICEF. Protein and iron supplements were handed out to boost the diet of children between six months and two years old. Pregnant women were also given nutrition pills.    Chen Chunming believes this kind of nutritional boost can help to solve the problems of stunting and anaemia caused by childhood malnutrition. The 1,000 days between conception and a child’s second birthday are key, she said.    The project in Beishan is still running, and data collected indicates it has succeeded in reducing malnutrition. In the village of Gonghe, we met boys the same age as Rong Tongxi who had received supplements before the age of two. At 101 centimetres tall and 16.4 kilograms in weight, the difference in their stature was clear.    A follow-up study carried out one year into the project found stunting rates among 12 to 14-month-old children had fallen from 10% to 4.6% in the county, while anaemia rates among children between six and eight-months-old at the start of the programme had fallen by 38.6%.    In fact, child nutrition in China more widely has seen improvements since the economic boom began and the government introduced pro-rural policies. But some argue that optimism has led to complacency – and that fragile improvements are, in places, going into reverse. UNICEF nutritionist Chang Suying pointed out that non-economic factors are also at work, and that child nutrition is very sensitive to slowing economic growth.    CDCC data shows that, since 2005, the rate at which childhood malnutrition is falling has slowed. And, in 2010, as the impacts of the global economic crisis fed through to China, child malnutrition rates even increased in impoverished areas.    While the rate of stunting in children over one year old in China’s poor villages remained static between 2008 and 2009, in 2010 it rebounded to 2005 levels. Stunting in infants aged between six and 11 months doubled between 2008 and 2009, from 6.7% to 12.5%, and remained at 12.1% in 2010.    Rates of anaemia, an important indicator of childhood malnutrition, have also remained stubbornly high. Despite the supplements, anaemia in Ledu county is still at 46.4%. In 2010, the rate of anaemia in children under five nationwide was 12.6%. In children under three in rural areas, the figure was 19.2%. And for under-threes in impoverished rural areas, it was 23.3%.    “Anaemia isn’t just a rural problem – it exists in major cities and coastal areas like Shanghai and Guangdong,” explained Liu Bei, a project officer in Ledu. “The 2010 survey found anaemia rates of 20% in babies and infants in these places, and up to 70% in some impoverished south-western counties.” Like stunting, anaemia has long-lasting and largely irreversible impacts on a child’s development.    Ever widening wealth gap    The ever widening wealth gap is regularly cited as one of the China"s main problems in surveys of social attitudes.    "The government"s been trying to increase GDP, but ordinary people"s living standards are not going up as fast as inflation," said one man, who declined to give his name.    China"s economic progress has transformed its cities and coastal areas. But life for hundreds of millions of Chinese in the country"s vast, rural hinterland is in some ways the same as it always was.    BBC News visited two of China"s poorest inland provinces, Ningxia and Guizhou, to hear views on the growing gap between rich and poor.    Wang Ran, Guizhou Province    "The agricultural tax is high. Government officials say they are going to reduce the rural taxes, but they haven"t and we don"t know when they will.    If they did reduce our taxes, that would really change our lives. We are so poor because there is no development here.    The government does give aid but for some reason there is hardly any allocated to this area. I have no way to buy fertilizer. We need economic help."    Qin Guiying, Ningxia Province    "My husband died a long time ago so I brought up my children myself. I have two grandchildren and I live in an old sun-dried mud house.    I have no money. The government gave us some aid once three years ago, but never again. We cannot compare our lives to those who live in the city. I have no choices."    Yao Min, Guizhou Province    "Both our children have left the village to work in the cities. The central government leaders just care about themselves - not about the masses, not about the people.    The local officials only pay attention to the one child policy, so that they can collect fines from those who have more than one child.    If families don"t have enough money to pay, they take things from their houses. If we become sick this will be a disaster for the family."    Wang Yanlin, Ningxia Province    "Life has changed here since the mid 1980s, in terms of economy. We used to live in sun-dried mud huts but now I live in a brick house. My family has heating. We cannot live as well as city husbands and wives who both have their own jobs."    Mrs Jin, Ningxia Province    "We don"t understand matters of the state - we have to concentrate on making a living, on finding enough money to eat. We don"t have time to pay any attention to politics."    Tan Huijue, Guizhou Province    "We have a huge burden: we are really poor. If I could choose a place to live, I would choose Guiyang [the provincial capital].    I certainly hope our place could develop faster. But the government has no ability to help us. We are so poor here."    Mi Yushan, Ningxia Province    "The wealth gap is certainly unfair! The price of chemical fertiliser is increasing but the price at which we can sell grain has dropped.    We farmers have few fields. We have just enough food so that we don"t get hungry - but we have little money left over. We have to work as temporary labourers in the town to earn money.    Someone from Hebei province tried to buy our land a few years ago, and the government just closed their eyes so we had to buy it back ourselves."    * Despie rising economic growth hundreds of millions of Chinese people continue to live on less than $5 a day, and over 100 million on less than $1 a day. One recent Chinese academic report cited the top 10% control 56% of the nation"s wealth. Miguel Niño-Zarazúa and Tony Addison write on Redefining poverty in China and India for the United Nations University.    http://unu.edu/articles/development-governance/redefining-poverty-in-china-and-india
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