CCTV9英语新闻：Rural Tibetan family lives through past & future（在线收听）

For more insight into Tibet, let's bring in our reporter Feng Xin. Feng Xin, you went to Tibet three times in the past five years for reporting, travelling to cities, villages and mountains in the region. In what aspects has the life of Tibetan farmers and herdsmen improved compared to the old days?

FENG: There are many changes, I will just pick a few basic aspects. First and foremost, people live longer. Before 1951, the average life expectancy in Tibet was around 35 years old. And by 2015, the age had gone up to 68. Whereas 95 percent of people were illiterate before 1951, Tibet has become one of the first regions in China to provide 15 years of free education for children, from Kindergarten until the end of high school. This policy came into effect in 2012. And as early as in 1985, children from farmers or herdsmen’s families were already able to receive free boarding at school in addition to free education. In terms of healthcare, it’s completely free for farmers and herdsmen. And all Tibet residents are entitled to free health check-ups. And economy....Now, Tibet has more than 20 different industries, mostly energy based, such as hydro-power, terrestrial heat and wind power. Tourism is also a major industry. The region received 20 million tourists just last year. Unlike many parts of China which have been experiencing economic slowdowns, Tibet was still growing at a double-digit speed in 2015 and shows much growth potential. During my reporting last July, I happened to meet a rural Tibetan family that has lived through the past. I took a look at their daily routines and asked how they live with tradition versus modernization.

68-year-old Kelsang spins her prayer wheel every morning and walks to the village temple. She’s the only Buddhist in her family.

Kelsang's daughter-in-law, Pema, is making sweet butter tea at home while her 70-year-old husband Phuntsok is already on the 13,000-feet plateau, chasing his cattle. Phuntsok has spent his entire life in this village.

"When I was a child – that was before the liberation – my family didn’t have any livestock. I was looking after cows for a manor lord,"  Phuntsok said.

Phuntsok’s family didn’t own any land until 1959, when the People’s Liberation Army came and confiscated the property of the landlords and distributed it to the peasants. Phuntsok joined the communist party in 1962 and served in the township government until his retirement.

28-year-old Tsering Dorji is the only son in the family. He’s quite a star in the village, serving as its accountant, director of the opera troupe and the largest shareholder in a pig farm co-op. Many of Tsering Dorji's peers have left the village, but he’s determined to stay.

"If everybody goes out, the village will then become a wasteland. So I thought I would not leave. I’m going to stay in my village. I’m going to start a pig farm. And I will make it big," Dorji said.

Tsering Dorji took classes in livestock breeding in a central Chinese city and then purchased most of his neighbors' pigs and established a village co-op five years ago. He invited 35 families to join him. The co-op raises 3,000 pigs and earns more than 1 million yuan a year.

This village has about 3,000 residents. But as we walk around, we don’t see many people outside. That's because an ordinary Tibetan village can sometimes span several square kilometres. Tsering Dorji tells me that about a quarter of the villagers here are between 18 and 29 years old. He says they've gone to seek jobs in the cities and only come back during the busy farming season.

Tsering Dorji has made himself into a businessman, but his mother insists that he not give up the land and farming.

"Why do we need to keep farming? This is because land is farmers’ lifeblood," Kelsang said.

"I asked some college graduates from our village: “Do you want to start your own business in our village? They said: “Oh, we’ve already been admitted as government officials. The job and pay is more stable,"  Dorji said.

Tsring Dorji does listen to his mother and grows barley and vegetable seeds, in addition to his pig co-op.

As for Kelsang, she pays her respect to Buddha with clean water every day in a prayer room. She prays that nature treats all beings with mercy.

In fact I find several interesting “clashes” in this family: the coexistence of religion and atheism – the mother is a devout Buddhist, but the son and the father are communist party members and atheists. There is also the predicament young people find themselves in, between seeking better opportunities in cities and staying in the countryside. And there is even the personal struggle between earning more income and keeping the family’s farming tradition. So, we can see many facets of rural Tibetan families’ life just by looking at their daily routines.

Q2: We’ve seen many achievements in Tibet over the past decades. But what challenges are farmers and herdsmen still facing and what can be done?

Feng: Well, I think rural Tibetan residents face problems similar to those of their counterparts elsewhere in China. Like you just saw, in my interviewee Tsering Dorgi’s village, almost all the young people between 19 and 29 have left for cities.  Few college graduates are interested in returning, since farming generates little income. 

And in a nomad camp, I met a village doctor, Thubdoi Namgyal. He is responsible for taking care of 900 villagers, many of whom live far from each other. The doctor has to ride a motorbike on his rounds every day. He’s been riding on the grassland for 20 years. From horse to bicycle, and then to motorbike, it still takes him at least an hour to get from one camp to another. I think improving farmers’ incomes and prospects for livelihood in general is fundamental. I saw a variety of trials such as certifying land ownership so that farmers can apply for bank loans to start a business or expand their farming. Also, some female entrepreneurs can enjoy low-interest rates and taxes if they create local job opportunities. But it will take time for these experiments to take effect on a larger scale.