Powered by social media, young people in China are traveling to the far corners of the country, places that those a decade or two older had missed.
As the spring Qingming festival draws near, China’s jobless divas are on the road again. Having enjoyed the ice and snow show and taken Instagram-worthy selfies in the northern city of Harbin this winter, they continue to visit the most unexpected places, where one yuan goes a long way.
The latest sensation is Tianshui, a small city of 3 million in Gansu province. Tucked away in northwest China, Tianshui has been forgotten since the Qin Dynasty more than 2,000 years ago. Visitors to Gansu would only go to Dunhuang, home to the caves that contain thousands of ancient Buddha statues.
But in recent weeks, social media viewership about Tianshui reached billions. China’s Gen-Z are coming for its malatang, a style of cooking that boils skewers in a spicy broth. This street food can be found everywhere in China, but what distinguishes Tianshui’s is a locally-grown peppercorn that numbs and tingles the tongue and gives some a slight buzz, as well as its price point.
Just like Harbin, this kind of viral attention is a godsend for a city that suffers from fiscal difficulties and decades-long emigration. Last year, general government revenue fell 20 percent from its 2021 high. Meanwhile, land sales have practically disappeared as China’s property downturn enters its third year.
To keep the precious youngsters coming, officials have enthusiastically embraced the so-called “nanny-style tourism,” welcoming visitors at the local airport and railway station with free shuttle buses to malatang joints. Street food providers cranky with tourists disturbing their sleepy, slow-paced routine have been scolded by the police, because just like their malatang, bad customer service videos can go viral quickly, too.
This consumer trend is a continuation of what we observed during the Lunar New Year holiday. Young people are the driving force, sending domestic tourist traffic to record highs. But because of their tight budget and bleak job prospects, spending per capita is still below the pre-pandemic levels.
Unlike those born in the 1970s and 1980s, who hit the most famous domestic sites and then went overseas as soon as their income grew, younger Chinese are getting to know their country better. They’re going to forgotten corners where infrastructure is lacking and people are poor. But does that mean they might turn inward and be more prone to brainwashing if they don’t have the budget to travel world?
So far, there’s little to worry about. We are witnessing a generation that has its own trend and way of thinking. After all, it was China’s youth who spearheaded the global “lie-flat” movement. They find no shame in living at home after college, proudly calling themselves “professional children.” They have rejected their parents’ slavish addiction to European luxury brands and are embracing small local designers and wearing “gross outfits” at work.
In the first week of its release, there was a huge spike in online piracy of Netflix Inc.’s “3-Body Problem,” given that the streaming service is not officially available in China. A heated online debate ensued about the opening gruesome Cultural Revolution scene. “Whoever gives me milk is my mom” — a Red Guard’s criticism of Albert Einstein when she was thrashing a scholar for teaching the physicist’s theory of relativity — is now a favorite catchphrase that resonates with many. Confronted with weak economic future, they disagree with the 1960s youngster’s revolutionary idealogy.
In China, an economic slowdown and a deflationary mindset are creating space for a new counterculture. Kids are leaning out and unearthing hidden gems. What they come up with is worth watching.
