But when the truck pulled into the newly built community a few minutes later, Yi was greeted like a conquering hero. Residents gathered to shake her hand, and a group of children gave her flowers. The apartment blocks were festooned with red flags, lanterns, and banners bearing the slogan: “Welcome the advanced producers to Caoyang New Village.” The 91-year-old recalls the excitement she felt as she explored the compound. In a city scarred by over a decade of war, her new 13-square-meter room felt like an unimaginable luxury.
fredag 2. juli 2021
Children of the Revolution: The Lives of China’s Model Communists
Yi Shijuan still vividly remembers the day she moved into her home in the central Putuo District nearly 70 years ago. It was June 1952. The young woman left her textile factory riding on the back of a battered old truck. At her feet lay a shabby suitcase containing two worn-out items of clothing — her only possessions.
But when the truck pulled into the newly built community a few minutes later, Yi was greeted like a conquering hero. Residents gathered to shake her hand, and a group of children gave her flowers. The apartment blocks were festooned with red flags, lanterns, and banners bearing the slogan: “Welcome the advanced producers to Caoyang New Village.” The 91-year-old recalls the excitement she felt as she explored the compound. In a city scarred by over a decade of war, her new 13-square-meter room felt like an unimaginable luxury.
But when the truck pulled into the newly built community a few minutes later, Yi was greeted like a conquering hero. Residents gathered to shake her hand, and a group of children gave her flowers. The apartment blocks were festooned with red flags, lanterns, and banners bearing the slogan: “Welcome the advanced producers to Caoyang New Village.” The 91-year-old recalls the excitement she felt as she explored the compound. In a city scarred by over a decade of war, her new 13-square-meter room felt like an unimaginable luxury.
