Chinese born in the 1950s are often called the “bitter generation” because of the hardship and miseries inflicted on them during a turbulent era.

They grew up as children in poverty and often starvation. In their teen years, their schools were closed and they were sent from cities to the countryside to learn ideological purity from the peasants.

In middle age, when China’s economic reforms were being implemented, many of them lost their jobs during a massive restructuring of State-owned and collective enterprises. And just as they were entering their older years, this generation often had to empty their life’s savings to help their children buy apartments as a prerequisite for marriage.

“When they needed nutrition, they were hit by the three years of the great famine,” says Zhang Letian, a sociologist at Fudan University. “When they needed education, there was the ‘cultural revolution’ (1966-1976). And when they needed work, they were laid off.”

In the 1950s, having children was encouraged, so many born in that era have multiple siblings. Their children, in turn, were the first to become parents during the one-child policy.

“The 1950s were traditional,” Zhang says. “There were no information sources, no telephones, no radio and no television. Communication was limited to family members and acquaintances, and there was little population mobility.”

During that time, the government rationed many commodities. People couldn’t buy pork, cooking oil or cloth without coupons. They had to save up cloth coupons to provide the traditional wedding dowry of eight quilts and two bed sheets.

Life was plain. There was little entertainment. Young lovers had to stroll in parks and talk in whispers.

The 1950s generation will never forget the widespread famine that gripped the country between 1959 and 1961.

Zhang Yunmei, 62, recalled that flour and rice were the only meal staples when she was about 10 years old.

“Flour was made into doughballs,” Zhang recalls. “My husband, who grew up in the countryside, said he dug up wild plants to feed himself.”

Dreams then were pretty basic. “The most important thing at that time was eating,” she says.

Zhang was sent to a rural area of Zhejiang Province to work during the “cultural revolution” and has lived in Ningbo ever since. She worked as an accountant before retirement.

Much has been written about the “cultural revolution,” which lasted from 10 years and paralyzed China politically, economically and socially. The national college entrance exam was suspended, depriving a generation of study.

At that time, “intellectuals” — which tended to be anyone with more than a basic education — had the lowest social position. Up to an estimated 18 million zhi qing (ÖªÇà), or intellectual youth, were sent to backward, often remote areas of the country to work alongside peasants. There, amid tears, blood, sorrow, struggle and hard work, they walked around barefoot, stooped in paddy fields under a hot summer sun, learned to make rope from straw, slept in shabby dorms and emptied latrines. Food was scarce, and the farmers often didn’t welcome more mouths to feed.

Jiang Jie, 56, was sent to the Haifeng Farm in Yancheng, Jiangsu Province, at the age of 19. He is close to tears recalling that experience. “It was a bitter time,” he says.

He slept on ground strewn with straw, arose at 4am to transplant rice seedlings, spread manure, reaped harvests and dredged waterways. Jiang and his fellow “rusticated youth” ate rice, steamed buns and Chinese cabbage. Meat was rare.

The hardest part was dredging river courses in bitter winter winds, Jiang says. “My rubber boots were buried deep inside the mud as I stood in the freezing water, and my feet grew numb.”

He recalls one fellow youth who accidentally hit his own feet with his shovel but didn’t realize the bloody mess it created until hours later because he didn’t feel a thing.

“At that time, my only dream was to return to Shanghai, no matter what it took,” he says.

In 1977, the national college entrance exam was reinstated and Jiang applied to sit the exam. After a day of farm work, he stayed up most of the night to study under a kerosene lamp. “I wanted to change my fate through the exam,” he says.

Exam resumed

More than 30,000 people worked at the farm, and about 20,000 of them applied for the exam that year, he said. Only 200 were successful and went to university. Jiang was among them. He was admitted to the former Shanghai University of Science and Technology, which was merged into Shanghai University in 1994.

Some of the Shanghai youth sent to countryside never returned. They married locals and stayed in the hinterlands.

In the 1990s, a large number of those born in the 1950s suffered another indignity.

They were laid off as the national economic reforms began to chip away at “cradle-to-grave” policies.

“They were no longer young, and couldn’t compete with youngsters who had much better education and skills,” Zhang says. “The ordeals of that time cultivated a generation who knew how to endure hardships and who didn’t lack spirit and determination.”

Among those born in the 1950s are Chinese President Xi Jinping, Premier Li Keqiang, and State Councilor Yang Jiechi. In the field of literature, the era produced writers Nobel Prize winner Mo Yan, Wang Anyi, Jia Pingwa and Han Shaogong.

In the field of commerce, the 1950s gave birth to Wang Jianlin, chairman of the Dalian Wanda Group, one of China’s largest commercial real estate developers; Liu Yonghao, chairman of China’s agribusiness conglomerate New Hope Group; and Shimao’s billionaire chairman Xu Rongmao.

In entertainment industry, famed directors Zhang Yimou and Chen Kaige were born   in the 1950s.

Those born in the 1950s dreamed of a better life for their children. They dedicated themselves to hard work and frugality in order to finance the best education they could afford for their offspring. They often found themselves on the frustrating end of a generation gap as their children grew up during a time of relative plenty and didn’t understand the sacrifices of their parents.

Now, many of those born in the 1950s have retired or are nearing retirement. Many have proven remarkably resilient in changing times. They have learned to use the Internet, enjoy travel and drive cars. Their dreams remain fixed on their children.

“I hope my daughter will marry before she’s 30 years old as she is my only concern,” says 55-year-old Wu Meiwen, whose daughter, 28, works in a local bank and earns a decent wage, but hasn’t found Mr Right.