This piece is the prologue of a hypothetical novella that follows Meilin, a young woman from the outskirts of Henan, through her experience as a migrant worker at Yue Yuen in Dongguan. This prologue contextualizes why Meilin wants to go to the city to find work.
Citybound: a short story
A small town in the outskirts of Henan province, Summer of 2005
Meilin was both excited and nervous as she sat waiting for her friend to arrive. Xue had been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. Living next door in such a small town, they had stuck to each other like glue through elementary school. Both of them dropped out of middle school to work at a local traditional medicine business. However, when Xue turned 19, she had left their hometown to find work in the city. This would be the first time they saw each other in two years.
Xue came riding a rusty red bicycle that made worrisome noises as it went. She was wearing a chic pink shirt and denim shorts, a nondescript black purse casually swung over her shoulder, waving as she got off the bike. After a brief embrace, Meilin pulled away and declared, “Wow, you look so different. You even smell different.”
“Well, I’m wearing perfume. You look exactly the same, Meilin.” Xue replied, “Let’s go sit down somewhere, I have so much to tell you!”
Meilin spent the next three hours listening to Xue’s adventures in the city. She had landed a job at Yue Yuen, a massive shoe factory in Dongguan, with the help of a distant relative who had settled in the city. Xue was a stitcher—making use of the fine motor skills that she developed during her years of working with dried Chinese medicine. The work was grueling and repetitive, she said, but the hours weren’t as bad as some other factories. However, her eyes really shone when she talked about life in the city: the bright lights at night, the people, the shops. The freedom. This was what the city meant to her. Freedom from prying eyes of neighbors. Freedom from endless chores. Freedom from household responsibility. Listening to this, a pang of jealousy shot through Meilin.
“Oh, I need to show you something! Look what I got,” Xue said, pulling out a metallic object from her purse. The glossy red piece of metal was marked by a silver logo on the back, in the shape of an apple. Meilin stared in awe at the tiny device. “Is that…”
“It’s a music player. It cost me three months of savings, but now I can’t live without it,” she explained gleefully.
“That’s expensive! You convinced your parents to let you buy that?” asked Meilin.
Xue grinned mischievously in response. “Of course I didn’t tell them, dummy. It’s my money anyway, why would I ask for their permission?”
“Put these in your ears,” said Xue, handing her a pair of earbuds. Meilin gingerly lifted the tiny speakers and inserted them into her ears. Xue pressed a button, and music started flowing.
Meilin spent the next five minutes with her eyes closed, lying down in the grass. In those five minutes, there was nothing in the world except for her and the music. She had never realized that music was something she needed in her life. Every vibration of the speaker in her ear was larger-than-life, sending shivers down her spine. Voices sang of love and of heartbreak, they told stories of places she had never been, sights she had never seen. When Xue finally stopped the music, Meilin was in a euphoric daze.
“Well, how was it?” Xue looked at her expectantly. “Isn’t that the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced?”
Meilin did not like how proud Xue was of her new toy, so she pretended not to be too impressed. “It’s nice,” she replied halfheartedly. “Still expensive.”
“Well, I bought it with my money,” said Xue. “It’s really nice to have your own money. Because in this world, everything is money,” Xue gestured at nothing in particular. “Clothes, food, and even the houses we live in. Money changes everything in your life, even who your friends and lovers are. I’ve seen men in the city pay girls—girls just like you and me—they can literally buy love.”
Two years in the city had changed her best friend. Even the way she talked had changed slightly, the characteristic intonation of the city folk mingling with the more crude Henan dialect. Meilin wondered if she really knew this girl who was sitting next to her anymore.
“I want to be rich,” Xue continued, “Because rich people can do whatever they want. See, Meilin, having money is having the power to do what you want. Poor people like us, we have to work hard everyday and we have no time to do anything else. If you’re rich though, you can do anything. This is what I learned in the city. That’s why we need to make money.”
The Sun was slowly setting, bathing the endless wheat fields a golden yellow. The wheat swayed to and fro in the wind, creating a mesmerizing pattern that was pleasant to watch. “Can I borrow your music player for tonight?” asked Meilin, as Xue was about to leave. She eagerly obliged, saying that she’d be back tomorrow, and rode off, put-puttering away on her bike.
Meilin watched her grow smaller and smaller, and something about her silhouette outlined by the glow of the setting sun made her seem like some ethereal, otherworldly figure that had just visited her with knowledge of a mysterious land. The figure riding away from her was so other, so different from the best friend she knew, that it made her shudder with an emotion she couldn’t quite seem to pin down. Grief? Excitement? Awe? She really had no clue.
She pressed a button on the music player, and a song began to play. It was a very famous pop ballad that was all the rage with the kids these days, yet Meilin did not know this. All she knew was that this little machine was singing into her ear.
♫ I remember someone who will forever be in my heart ♫
Her parents had always wanted her to go to college. Ever since she was little, her mother had drilled into her: “You need to go to college if you don’t want to end up like me.” Her mother and father had left behind Meilin and her older sister at home to work in the city. Why would she listen to someone who had never even spent a full year with her? Studying had never been for her anyways. She never felt compelled to stay in school. She had even convinced Xue to drop out with her.
♫ I miss you, missing you, no matter how hard it is ♫
Her parents would not approve of her leaving home to find work. They had made that clear when Xue left two years ago. She remembered her mother saying to her father, “That stupid girl Xue, she would be better off just getting married quickly to someone in town. Going to the city alone as a girl is just asking for trouble.”
♫ As long as you’re happy, I will do anything, to love you like this ♫
She thought back to her earlier conversation with Xue. Xue was clearly happier in the city than in their hometown. While Meilin never had any grand plans for her own life, hearing Xue talk about the city had changed things. It had lit something within her, and now it was a fire that burned slowly but surely. She wanted to be with other people her age, she wanted to find love. She wanted to be in the city, make money, and spend it as she pleased.
♫ I love you, loving you, as a mouse loves rice ♫
Meilin lay down on her bed, yet she could not fall asleep because her heart was racing. She lay awake, music flowing through her ears, imagining a new future unfolding before her.
References
Chang, Leslie T. “Factory Girls.” Factory Girls, From Village to City in a Changing China, New York: Spiegel & Grau, 2008, pp.98–119.