China Job Squeeze Sends 'Ants' to Fringes...

FYI...China Job Squeeze Sends 'Ants' to Fringes... Millions of College Graduates Stack Up, Seek Cheap Living on Beijing Outskirts   BEIJING—Young people calling themselves the "ant tribe" and living in Beijing's outskirts have prompted a national discussion about the tough job market for college graduates in China. The term "ants"—referring to the graduates' industriousness as well as their crowded, modest living conditions—was coined in a book by Lian Si, a professor at the University of International Business and Economics in Beijing, who in a 2007-09 survey of 600 Beijing-area college graduates found their average monthly income was the equivalent of $300. Journal Community View Full Image Agence France-Presse/Getty Images Young graduates carry food in Tangjialing, a village 12 miles north of Beijing that has attracted jobless and underemployed Chinese, or 'ants.'   The book touched a nerve in China, inspiring both admiration for the young people's striving and indignation at their living conditions. Earlier this year, several members of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference, an advisory body to the government, said they were moved to tears on a visit to the village of Tangjialing when they heard two young men who shared a 50-square-foot room sing a song they composed about their tough lives.   The issue of underemployment among young graduates—the product of dramatic increases in university enrollment over the past decade—is expected to come to the fore in a few months when the class of 2010, which Beijing estimates at 6.3 million, hits the job market.   Prof. Lian estimates that more than 100,000 college graduates already live in "settlement villages" on the periphery of Beijing. Their life "is pretty tough," he says. What's worse, he says, behind the graduates are multitudes of Chinese families who sent their children to college hoping they'd make it in the big cities.   Zhao Lei, a 24-year-old computer-science major who graduated in 2008 from Beijing Jiaotong University, shares a 130-square-foot room with five other people in the village of Xiaoyuehe, in north Beijing, near the Olympic village. They share three bunk beds and two desks. Their belongings are stored in suitcases. "We have no alternatives," Mr. Zhao says. "This is a place we can afford with our meager income ... when we first step into society."   Stories about the ants prompted Huang Rixin, a 78-year-old retired engineer, to build what he calls "capsule apartments." Inspired by similar concepts in Japan, Mr. Huang rented three rooms in west Beijing and turned them into eight capsules measuring about eight feet by 28 inches—narrower than a twin-size mattress. With a wire-mesh ceiling for ventilation, the capsules are a far cry from their Japanese counterparts. More Watch a performance of the Tangjialing Brothers' "Song of the Ants," a song about the hardships of sharing a 50-square-foot room that has moved even Chinese government advisers to tears. Mr. Huang, who set a rent of 250 yuan (about $37) a month for each, initially had problems finding tenants. But after some media coverage of his capsules, all the capsules have been rented, most to recent graduates. "It's just for temporary living. As soon as these young people can have a higher salary and a better life, they will definitely leave for better housing," Mr. Huang said.   Zhang Qi, a 26-year-old college graduate from Shanxi province, was the first tenant to move in to one of the capsules, on April 3. Ms. Zhang, who works at an advertising company, earns around 4,000 yuan a month, but she wants to save money for her family. Her father died two years ago, leaving behind her mother, who has no job, and her younger sister, who is still in college. The building has no bathroom, so Ms. Zhang has to go to a public toilet a short walk away. "I try to drink as little water as possible during the night," she said.   A big portion of the college graduates stuck in the villages are from rural China. Those who have jobs are mostly engaged in temporary information technology-related work in Zhongguancun, a district of the city sometimes called China's Silicon Valley, or in the services industry.   Government statistics show 87% of college graduates found work last year. But many graduates doubt those figures, and say the available jobs often barely pay a living wage.   Prof. Lai Desheng, dean of the School of Economics and Business Administration at Beijing Normal University, says the shift in China's economy in the aftermath of the global financial crisis away from export-oriented, low-end manufacturing could mean more job opportunities for college graduates, and that Beijing's recent emphasis on so-called indigenous innovation could expand the need for more-skilled workers.   But the turnaround will take time, as impact from the financial crisis is likely to linger. "Many companies, both domestic and foreign, have adjusted their business outlook" and slowed investment, he said.   Premier Wen Jiabao has pledged to adjust university curriculums to "meet employment needs and the needs of economic and social development." Mr. Wen said in March that China plans to spend more than $6 billion this year to stimulate employment, with an emphasis on helping recent college graduates.   Local officials also say they're trying to improve the situation. Officials in Tangjialing, which has attracted more than 40,000 migrant workers, including 17,000 college graduates, are coordinating a $600 million facelift, including replacing some crumbling apartments with newer, low-rent buildings.   The composers of the "Song of the Ants" that moved the visiting CPPCC members in March are among the first ants to be uprooted in the Tangjialing renovation. Li Liguo and Bai Wanlong had shared a tiny room in Tangjialing since 2008, paying 160 yuan a month. When their building was targeted for demolition they moved to a larger Tangjialing room, with a private toilet and significantly higher rent: 400 yuan a month.   "Finally, we can see sunshine from our room," said Mr. Bai. The aspiring musicians, who in some months make little more than 1,000 yuan from performing in the street, sing at a bus stop in Tangjialing most days, he says, to "inspire the college graduates living here, like us."   The "Song of the Ants" is a favorite. Its refrain: "Though we have nothing, we are tough in spirit; though we have nothing, we are still dreaming; though we have nothing, we still have power; though we have nothing, we are not afraid of being deserted."   —Sue Feng and Ian Johnson