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One of the most eye-catching and photogenic sights that China offers international visitors is a picture of serene beauty and harmony between nature and man: Rows and rows of senior citizens do morning exercises in unison, moving at the majestic and leisurely pace of Tai Chi in a sun-drenched, beautifully landscaped public park. Looking at photos of them, one can almost touch the morning dew and hear birds chirping.
But there is one factor that is taken for granted here: the weather. What if it is freezing outside, or a sandstorm is sweeping across the city? Shouldn't they relax or exercise in rest homes or community centres?
As a matter of fact, the postcard prettiness of China's morning exercise scene has an overlooked downside: We have an inadequate supply of public accommodation for indoor purposes. Well, we don't have enough parks and public green space, either, but that's a topic for another time.
In a well-developed society, the retired can spend time in an expensive seniors' home if they can afford it, or in a government subsidized facility. These venues may not be as picturesque as a tree-lined river bank, but they are utilitarian.
But here in China, one has to leave these kind of activities to the vagaries of the weather and to the proximity of a choice location. A casual tourist may not have stumbled on the scene of the elderly playing chess or rehearsing Peking Opera around ad-hoc tables in narrow green belts that align dusty roads.
Suffice to say, it's not a pretty sight.
China does not lack meeting halls and auditoriums, but these facilities, which can be converted for various uses, are usually in the hands of the urban employed, leaving the retired and the rural migrants literally out in the cold.
True, entertainment parlours have sprouted up everywhere, but they may charge 30 yuan for an hour for a game of chess.
A parallel can be drawn between the current shortage of public facilities for the retired and the dearth of entertainment options for the rural population in the pre-reform years.
Twenty-five years ago, about the only form of entertainment for the vast countryside was an occasional movie out in the open shown by a travelling projection team. Villagers from a dozen miles away would trek down and gather in a festive mood. It didn't matter what movie was played; it was the only social gathering available and people loved it. It was culturally more significant than the drive-in experience in the US.
Nowadays, old-timers wax nostalgic and some are intent on reviving it.
But few villagers would bother to show up any more. Even in the entertainment-starved communities of migrant workers, there is an apathy towards free outdoor movies.
The reason is simple: The rural, just like the urban, prefer a television in every living room and a film-going experience not accompanied by mosquito bites, bitter cold, heat or sudden rains, but by Dolby sounds and state-of-the-art special effects.
Someday, we'll miss the spectacle of early-morning Tai Chi rituals by the retired, against a backdrop of weeping willows and dewy flowers. I hope they'll come out of their properly air-conditioned or heated playrooms once in a while - weather permitting.
(China Daily 01/05/2006 page15)