However, the saga does not end with this public display from last episode. As you might guess, gentrification does not end has the shores of America or Paris, the concept has traveled here as well.
As these fashion models grace the stage of Daishikuo Square, they inevitably kick out the citizens who normally come to dance. These men and women make it a habit of dancing and mingling right on the spot where the stage has been step up. And, as frequent readers remember, the dancers here are viciously territorial. Only yards away from the hoopla, I watched leader Melody seethe as HER stage was taken by dancers with more money and government support.
To Melody and her team, the performers on the stage were no better or more talented than her, they were simply better connected. They would come here for a night and act like stars, but it was Melody’s crew that did the hard work each day to attract visitors to the park. It was her team that practiced, and it was members of her team that actually did the daily proletariat labor. The actors on stage worked a few hours a week and shuttled around from site to site, sponsored by the provincial government. To her, they deserved much less of the spotlight that she so desperately craved.
So, even as the performance went on, the normally dancers set to dance a protest nearby. They turned up their music, and these dancing ladies got to work. They marched left, they marched right, the wove their hands and stomped their feet. Two feet in, one foot out, two feet forward and one foot back. They paraded only meters away for the next hour, facing the ensemble of lights and moneyed actors across the park.
“Hey, Ha, Hey, Ha, we are the dancers. Hey, Ha, Hey, Ha. We want our space.” They chanted slogan after slogan (rhyming better in Chinese, of course) to get their point across. Even as the show organizers and some police came to talk with Melody throughout the night, they refused to be moved or phased.
You might think that this was a meaningless protest for one night of disturbance. It was just one night of a showy performance, but the dancers stubbornly held their ground. “If the government thinks they can do this one night, then they think that they can do this any night,” once woman said.
When I left and returned hours later the show crews were packing up their lights, stage material and costumes.
But the Daishikuo ladies? Organizing more dances.
For tonight. For themselves. For the next night. For the next dancers.