The man with the ramrod-straight back grimaces. Nobody is quite dancing in perfect time to the music. And yet doing so is vital – dancing in perfect time. How else are they supposed to win the competition? It’s taking place just two weeks from now, and it’s going to be broadcast live on Rudong TV, the local broadcaster.
Once again. Speakers on, the patriotic anthem "Together for the Chinese Dream" blaring. The sound is tinny and far too loud, but they have to turn it up since some of the dancers can't hear particularly well anymore. Nine women spin like dervishes in their red skirts. Arms outstretched, fingers splayed like ballerinas, a few stiffened by gout and no longer as mobile as they once were.
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"How old do you think I am?" one of them asks.
"67?"
"78!"
"And me?"
"65?"
"Wrong! 73! We are the most enthusiastic uncles and aunties in China."
The most enthusiastic uncles and aunties in China are practicing their dance in Rudong, a county seat in the eastern coastal province of Jiangsu – sandwiched between the sea on one side and heavy industry on the other.