Knifeless Stores and a Harmonious Society

As mentioned in my last post, the National day is just around the corner. In fact, preparations can be seen everywhere. With under ten days left until parades and other excitement, the city has received a face lift with monument cleaning and decorations on many streets throughout the city. The retired men and women that work as volunteers in the city have received new uniforms, a new subway line is about to open, and a host of new security features are in place.

Since I have been traveling twice weekly to and from Qinhuangdao (a city about two hours east of Beijing by train), I have noticed the security at Beijing Train Station increasing as well. The last time I was there I saw police in full riot gear, SWAT policemen, bomb or drug sniffing dogs, and lots of guns. Granted, they are canister guns probably loaded with rubber bullets or tear gas canisters; it's not so much protection from enemies or shoot to kill, but protection from rioting. Disruptions such as rioting might be China's biggest perceived threat this National Holiday. The train station in Qinhuangdao has also stepped up it's security with a fulltime police guard and stricter checking of bags as they are scanned. I saw two people taken aside when I was coming back on Sunday night. Of course, I haven't seen any guns in Qinhuangdao.

I read about an interesting security measure the other day in a blog. They said that no knives were being sold in any markets. I went to a higher class market (a Japanese chain that doesn't allow bargaining) today to get some kitchen supplies and sure enough, no knives. They had spread out the cutting boards, sharperners and knife holders and racks to fill in the gaps where there were no kitchen knives or cleavers. I asked one of the workers if it was true that they could not sell any knives. She said, that's right, not until after the October holiday. I asked if it was just for the city, or if all of Beijing (including the suburbs were like this too). She said she thought it was for the entire district of Beijing, including the distant suburbs. 

Though a truly impressive measure, I'm not sure it does much to stop anyone except the most unprepared terrorists and dissenters.

I wonder how much things will return to normal after the holiday and how much the restrictions and other things in place were simply measures that China wanted to start imposing, but needed a valid excuse (without worldwide attention, eg the Olympics) in order to pursue them. By this I am refferring not so much to the absence of certain kitchen utensils, but to stricter security policies. The PRC might view policing people coming to and from Beijing, as well as people already in Beijing as important in a developing nation; especially when one considers the disruptions in Tibet (in 2008) and Xinjiang over the past six months. Another security measure that might not disappear after the holiday is internet blocks. Only time will tell if it is for the 60th anniversary or if it is for a more "harmonious society," The PRC's widely proclaimed main objective since the Olympics ended over a year ago.

Prideful, Nationalistic Sabre Rattling?

In three weeks and three days China is going to celebrate its 60th anniversary. It's a really big deal here, and the preparations are well underway.

A parade of army vehicles, long range missiles, soldiers, jet flyovers will travel along the main thoroughfare of Beijing, Chang'an Street. (That's the street that runs right in front of Mao's picture and just north of Tian'anmen Square.) 

It's all very foreign when I think about an entire army, and it's machines of war marching through the nation's capital. Try to imagine the US army and all the missiles and tanks cruising down Pennsylvania Ave and up the mall to the Capitol. And then imagine that even if you wanted to go an watch, you can't. That's right, no "non-military or uninvited guests" are allowed to watch the event on October 1st in person. But everyone in China will be watching it from their living rooms.

I'm just trying to figure out what the real point of this event is. Is it an attempt to bring about a form of naionalistic pride characteristic of any good communist country? Or sabre rattling to intimidate other countries? This quote from the Global Times is pretty interesting: 

Li Daguang, a senior military expert at the PLA University of National Defense, emphasized that the military parade is not for saber rattling but aims to promote national pride, confidence and awareness of national defense.

"Some countries, observing China's parade with colored glasses, show off their weapons around the world on the battlefield instead," Li said.

Why does a country maintain an army? Self protection and intimidation of enemies. Who does the US intimidate when we use weapons on the battlefield? Who does China intimidate when they drive them down the mainstreat of their capital? I doubt this event will be televised in other parts of the world, but people in Xinjiang, Tibet and every home in China will get to watch it.

Is the overall intention a nation filled with pride at watching the CCTV broadcast of the parade or fear.

The Shoupolan'r

Went to the Hutong to get rid of the trash that I had accumulated there so that I can take care of the lease and get my deposit back. So when I got to that apartment today I started to sort stuff. Things I didn't want at all, basically trash that I could sell to the 收破烂儿 shoupolan'r - pronounced show-poe-larr) Their job is quite literally translated as the guy that "collects broken stuff." Today I went to the hutong with the intention of finding a shoupolan'r to get rid of the things I didn't want.

I threw out the stuff that I knew the shoupolan'r wouldn't want and put the stuff that he might want, or that I thought he might want downstairs in my first floor room. Then ate some lunch as I waited for one to come by. In the hutongs, there are always one or two driving through every hour or so shouting that they are collecting unwanted things. Well, after over an hour no one had showed up, so I decided to go up the larger hutong near me looking for one. I walked a little ways in and found a large truck piled up with random things and a three wheeled bike parked behind it. I asked if they would come with me to collect some things, they asked if it was far, I said just up ahead. So one said, "hop on the back!" and we rode down the hutong to my house. 

When I got to the place I realized two other shoupolan'r had shown up as well as a fourth person who asked what was going on, the other three said he's moving but told her to keep going. I felt a little strange having that many people come to collect these things from me.

It's all things I didn't want. Two thin mattresses, a bamboo matress pad to keep cool, a fan that doesn't work, old magazines, bottles, two blankets, the beer crates that had made up my table; basically things that I didn't want to take with me to my new place and had no need for. Quite literally it was trash. In the states we might take these to a good will or donate them to some sort of place, or even just trash them, in China you can sell them to people who want them. They are basically looking to collect these things because they can either make money selling them to other people or use the things themselves.

At any rate, when they had taken the stuff out I had said the least amount that I would accept for each thing. And then we had gone into a little bit of bargaining. It's strange being on the other side of the bargaining table. I'm usually the one buying things and being cheated, now I was the one selling things, and I was still being cheated! I tried to say how much I wanted for each thing, but they would just laugh. "What? Ten RMB? EACH? They're worth about ten for all three." And other two would agree. They had already loaded things up when I realized a certain fact, it doesn't really matter what I get paid for this stuff, as it's all stuff I don't want. It's all my trash that I'd be throwing out anyway; it's better to take a little money than none at all I thought, and I definitely didn't think it was worth it to bargain with them.

My landlord's sister-in-law came out when the shoupolan'r were leaving. She asked how much I had gotten for it all. When I told her she replied with "You got ripped off." Yeah, probably.

But truthfully, they had more use for those things than me; as they were going through the things they were asking who wanted what for personal use. Even though I pretend daily to be completely adapted to all things in the hutongs, it just didn't seem right to bargain with people over my own trash. If they want and need something that I don't want and need, than I'd rather give it to them than spend a solid fifteen minutes bargaining over how much it's worth to me and how much I think I can get from them.

POSTSCRIPT:  It was brought to my intention that this is quite similar to Garage sales and Rummage sales in the United States. And very true. I have junk that I want to get rid of, and they might want it for themselves or to sell--either way, they see value in things I don't want any more. The main difference I think, the shoupolan'r's job is literally that of pack-rat, that is how they make a living on a day to day basis. Searching, finding, and then selling stuff or recycling bottles and other scrap parts and appliances. They will take just about anything from trash--bottles and cans, to perfectly fine things; old, broken down appliances to second hand articles that they can use themselves. It's a wide range that does echo that of a bargain hunter, but takes it from a hobby or weekend passion to a profession.

"mei banfa de" part 2

About three weeks ago, when I was still living at my hutong apartment I woke up one Saturday morning to a lot of commotion on the street. It wasn't the normal Hutong commotion of used goods recyclers, rice and corn sellers, and knife sharpeners I had heard from 7 am onwards each morning living there, but instead it was my neighbors all talking about something.

When I went to the bathroom, I saw a large notice plastered on the wall at the entrance to the Hutong. It announced the destruction of the east side of the hutong's courtyard houses. They basically are making the hutong, which right now is barely wide enough for a car to pass through, into a two way hutong that will cut straight down to Ping'an Street due south of the main street East Drumtower Street. The result will be the destruction of about 10 courtyard houses and the relocation of about 100 families. The restaurant across the hutong from me will have to move to a new location if they want to remain in business.

When I first read the notice I was blown away. That first reaction of "how can they do this?" came right up in my mind. I talked about it with the bosses of the restaurant Hutong Kitchen at which I have been a regular for the last six months. "There's nothing we can do about it, but at least they will pay some money for it all." How much? "I'm hoping at least 5,000 RMB per square meter." Someone else had heard 8 - 15,000 RMB and the boss of the nearby real estate agency had heard a lot more for each. The bosses said it couldn't be very high, probably lowballed. A full courtyard house of several hundred square meters (completely unfinished and without very nice bathroom facilities) could sell for over 1.1 million US dollars. When they are purchased by wealthy Chinese and foreigners they are gutted and refitted for another several million US dollars. While they are a prime piece of real estate, there is a little bit of a gamble in the purchase.

Lately, people agreed that that gamble was a lot less. Beijing had claimed the area I lived in west to Desheng Gate and East to Jiaodaokou (several square miles of courtyard houses) as a "culturally protected area" that "cannot be torn down." Of course they cannot be torn down unless there are certain circumstances. Already north of where I lived a large section had been torn down for the new Drumtower Subway station and to the south for the Nanluoguxiang Station another area had been completely torn down.

A five minute walk east from my hutong there is a larger hutong that is famous for it's revitalization as a shopping and bar street--Nanluoguxiang. It is an attraction for both locals and tourists, but the biggest problem with it is that cars can still drive through it. I heard they are tearing down the hutong where I used to live in order to make a parking lot as well as a through street for cars, that way Nanluoguxiang can become a walking street and people can have a place to park, thus opening up traffic on the main throughfare. It is all a good thought for making Nanluoguxiang a more pleasant place to visit, but it means that the true culture of the hutongs will be lost to make room for the cleaned up and trendier hutong Nanluoguxiang. Over the next two years the whole area will be transformed into a large tourist area reminiscent of what has happened in the south of the city at Qianmen (the front gate to the south of Tian'anmen square)--incredibly high rents, tourist haven, and without the culture and original flare that most people are searching for in the hutongs. This two year plan will also mean the relocation of all the families in that area.

This includes the families that are refitting their hutongs, spending large amounts of money to bring them into the 21st century, adding plumbing amenities and cleaning them up. The boss of the Hutong Kitchen had just finished the refurbishment of his family's courtyard house, they had been enjoying it for about a week before the second sign went up announcing the first phase of destruction (the east side of the hutong I lived in, which includes his rented restaurant space) to be finished before October 1st and the rest of the destructions to take place over the next two years (which includes his newly refinished house). "Mei banfa de," he told me "nothing can be done about it."

I asked my landlords about it, they said before the signs went up no one knew anything about this plan for the destruction of Hougulouyuan Hutong. They were just happy it was the opposite side and not their side.

The relocation is a whole other aspect to the destruction. The government lowballs the prices of the hutongs and leaves the families with a small amount of cash for their once prime real estate. While the money is enough to buy a new house, the closest place they can afford to buy an apartment is outside of the fifth ring road, over an hour subway ride from the part of the city they live in currently.

Another neighbor that used to work as a manager of a factory walks his dog every night and I talked to him a little bit about the destruction of his home. He looked tired and sad but said the same refrain that had been echoed up and down the hutong since the sign went up. "There's nothing we can do. jiu mei banfa de." 

"mei banfa de" part 1

Last night I got a phone call from my friend Grace who has lived here for over ten years. Her housekeeper (also called Ayi, the Chinese word for aunt) wanted my help to make a video of her house. Grace explained to me that the Chengguan, or city managers, are making her take down her nearly finished addition.

This year is the 60th anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China; apparently for this small area near Chaoyang Park just east of the fourth ring road all building projects have to not only be stopped, but for second floor additions that are unfinished they have to be completely torn down. Why this is, no one is exactly sure, but it's accepted as "mei banfa de" -- "nothing can be done about it." Ayi's house, while far from being finished and livable, is only about three days from finishing off the roof of the second floor. The Chengguan showed up yesterday and told her they were going to tear it down today because it isn't finished. They will pay her about 30,000 RMB (about 4,400 USD) for the destruction of her nearly finished second floor, but that amount is lowballed compared to what it should be worth, considering construction time and destruction of materials, among other things.

Ayi wants to sue the Chengguan for 130,000 RMB (about 19,000 USD) and they will probably settle at a price in between those two. In order to do that she needs to document the work that's been done on her house as well as other houses with and building second floors in her neighborhood. The Chengguan showed up at her house without any permits or written orders, just their word that they would have to tear down her house and didn't go to all the houses with second floors under construction, so it's all a little fishy.

So after Grace explained this to me, I agreed to help out, but told her I didn't have a video camera, just a digital camera. Grace said that should be ok, Ayi just wants to get some documentation. Grace also reminded me that if the Chengguan show up I should get out of there. Chengguan are becoming more and more notorious for beatings and taking a lot of power. They are basically below police, but with the power to enforce laws. Stories online depict street sellers in other parts of China brutally beaten by Chengguan and fights usually revolving around them. I assured her that I want nothing to do with them. After getting my number from Grace Ayi called me to ask officially. I agreed to help her, letting her know at most I could record some video, but my camera wasn't a video camera, just a digital camera. She didn't mind and she asked if I could come over early. I said, "like around 7:30 - 8?" She said, "how about 7 - 7:30?" Knowing she was under a time crunch I agreed, saying it'd be better for me to be out of there before the Chengguan show up to tear down the place at 10. She then told me they told her they weren't coming to tear it down tomorrow, but at a later date. Apparently that was the latest news.

I had to get my camera from my Hutong (I haven't moved all my stuff over yet, and still have a chest of some books and electronics and other random things there). At about 6:45 I got a call from Ayi while I was on my way over, "we're already here, are you still asleep?" I said, I'm on my way, I just have to get my camera! Well, the bad news was my camera was out of electricity, and upon seeing the camera I was talking about, Ayi was a little disappointed, she kept asking where my camera with the big lens was! I said, that doesn't have the ability to record video. She didn't seem to understand that all, and was then trying to figure out what to do to get a camera or some other method to record. 

So I felt really bad wasting their time, but it was interesting to go to Ayi's house. It's inside this area of Beijing that feels like the countryside, dirt roads, small Chinese town atmosphere that is straight out of the countryside. It's really interesting that it's only about a 15 minute drive from the Central Business District. Everyone in this community is doing construction on their houses but only a few are building second floors, and Ayi's seems to be the first or second to have to be torn down, but the Chengguan wasn't specific about who's houses were going to be torn down.

It was interesting to hear Ayi's husbands frustration with lack of rights and the fact that the Chengguan (though he identified it as the Party) can walk up to their house with no papers or legal justification other than their word (and a very suspicious word, at that) and announce that the upper floor has to be torn down. Originally they said today at 10 am, then told Ayi it wouldn't be today, but when we got to their community a Chengguan van was parked out on the road. Anger with Chinese policy in China usually results in the words "There's nothing we can do about it."

"mei banfa de"

"jiu mei banfa."

Change of conditions

It's pretty hot in the hutong I live in.

Two weeks ago it was 35 - 37 degrees Celsius by 8:15 in the morning every day. That's about 95 to 98 degrees Fahrenheit. That's pretty hot. Luckily I could flee to an office building with central air during the hottest part of the day. I spent last week teaching sailing in Qinhuangdao and living in an apartment with its own bathroom, shower, and cool termperatures (though still no air conditioning, the sea breeze was enough), and it was definitely hard to come back to place in Beijing. 

But then I bought a new fan, and a nice one too, not one that you can bargain for at a local market. It's a Midea fan with great power. I pretty much leave it running whenever I'm home and it's doing a very good job of keeping my apartment cool. It seems like I'll make it through the end of my contract, which expires on August 5th.

What started as a test and challenge has turned into the place I live and love. When I moved into this place in February I did think about what the summer's hot temperatures would be like, but my mind was more preoccupied with the freezing cold weather of winter. And I think there was a good part of me that didn't even think I'd make it to summer. But as I have lived here longer I have learned to love every part of life here. Not just the apartment I live in, or my neighborhood local restaurants, but the fact that when I walk down the street I joke with locals who all know me.

It's a good atmosphere in the middle of the city, and life moves even slower than Beijing in general--which is already a very slow capital. The sense of humor is darker and colder than outside the second ring road. It's definitely affected my speech, which is now better Beijing dialect than Mandarin, but I can still communicate in Mandarin, but it's a lot more work than letting all my words slur together and come out as a giant gargle in Beijing dialect littered with local Beijing expressions and words. 

As I get closer to the August 5th end of my lease, I wonder where I'll move to. Part of me doesn't want to look for a new place, and just spend the rest of the summer and fall in my apartment. But then again, what kind of professional lives without a private toilet bathroom or shower? And a washing machine would be nice. I know I can find a place with all those in the hutongs of Beijing, but it just seems so fake, living in this old style housing. There are the people who live in refurbished hutongs, and as you walk deeper into the place I live you find that most places are being fixed up and set up to be more livable. But still, when you talk to people who also use the same public toilet, who don't have a private place to shower, who live in a small place buried inside a "complicated courtyard house" with upwards of ten families living in the same general area, it just doesn't seem right to tell them you pay 2500 a month for a room in a courtyard house and you have all the modern comforts.

It's weird to think of leaving all the friends I have made in restaurants and stores and the old people that sit on the corner, but then again a washing machine and shower would be an excellent change, especially as every day is hotter than the day before. It seems that as the weather conditions keep changing I think more and more about the ammenities that most people can't live without, and would never choose too. What started as a challenge for myself definitely became a true love... Now I definitely wouldn't consider it a test or a challenge, it really is the place I live, my neighborhood and my life in Beijing. I Still have about two weeks to try and decide what to do with the living situation, but have to start searching soon, if I do end up moving. Maybe a change in conditions, and a new area in Beijing would bring a new view of Beijing culture, which never ceases to have new facets to be explored.

Juxtaposed Cultures of the Hutongs

"Why do you want to live in a hutong? It's full of old people!"

I was talking to a friend of mine on the train back from Qinhuangdao (a city about two hours east of Beijing by train). We both work in the office for the Beijing Sailing Center and had spent the weekend sailing in Qinhuangdao, where our company has their sailing center. She was so confused about why I wanted to live in a hutong courtyard house... She thinks of all hutongs as strictly filled with old people. And she does have a point, it seems that most people that live in these areas of the city are nearing or past the age of retirement. Thirty to forty year old fathers and mothers have all moved out of the hutongs and into apartment buildings. While that may be true, I still find the area I live in quite youthful.

I live on East Drumtower Street. If you were to page through a youth magazine here in Beijing, about half of the stores they talk about are located within a fifteen minute walk from my door. I live within fifteen minutes of the Central Academy of Drama, located along NanLuoGuXiang, a "traditional" style hutong, which, while once was very traditional, now is lined with coffee shops, stores of all kinds, and many bars. Walking along the street is a good mix of foreign and Chinese tourists, twenty and thirty-something Beijingers, and local area residents. There are the local retired men and women that sit on their foldable stools people watching, but they sit in front of the trendy clothing stores, popular t-shirt shops, or bars playing music with their windows open to the street. 

This really represents the area I live in, it's filled with juxtaposed images. The hutongs are filled with a large amount of "Old Beijing" residents, they're retired, gossipy, some wear the red sleeve arm badge that shows they are a community volunteer, others just like to smoke, drink, and fan themselves... But while they fan themselves they are sitting in front of Guitar shops, clothes stores, and Korean and Japanese import boutiques filled with cell phone jewelry and Doraemon products--the stores that every Chinese girl from age ten to forty has to stop in just to browse. The retired locals saunter down the street greeting the other retired locals they know as they are passed by young professionals, college students, and high schoolers walking arm and arm hurrying to the next store, restaurant, or bar. The retired locals are still living in the heart of Beijing, while the youth, the people that refuse to live in one floored houses in the hutongs come back for the cultural hub that stretches from Houhai (a bar district around two lakes) to Jiaodaokou, from the Gulou bridge to the Dianmen intersection.

I like this juxtaposition, the people my age who can't figure out why I would want to live in a hutong in the middle of the city can't help but come to my neighborhood every weekend. I love the culture of this area, whether it's the old people's culture--the gossiping about their neighbors and me and shouting to the people they know; and, at the same time, being surrounded by the stores and places that are favored by young professional Beijingers and are run by and influencing the youth of China.

Anniversary Celebrations

Today is the twentieth anniversary of the Tiananmen Student Protests. You might ask how China is celebrating this anniversary, and I am sure the official answer is "What anniversay?"

I think there is a lot of fear here, it seems like the Chinese government is worried something is going to happen again. Two days ago I was out on the street with some friends chatting and three pairs of soldiers passed at different times, patrolling. My neighborhood friends in their mid-forties remarked that the soldiers were simply practicing. Although there is a military base near my house, I have never seen soldiers marching down the street before. Although they were wearing helmets, they were unarmed.

The truth is that it's very quiet about June Fourth here. It's not a topic I normally bring up with my friends, most were only a few years old at the time and not in Beijing. I am, however, hearing more about Tiananmen from foreign news sites and blogs then from friends here in China.

Considering this, it's no surprise that Twitter and Flickr as well as Hotmail were all Tuesday night. The site that hosts this blog was blocked last month, and YouTube has been blocked since the end of March. This year marks the sixtieth anniversary of the People's Republic of China as well as today's much more sensitive anniversary, and ensuring that the status quo is maintained is, it seems, top priority.

I am convinced that 3 out of 5 people in and around Tiananmen Square this week are undercover police and soldiers dressed in civilian clothes.

I hope that after this anniversary passes that those sites, Flickr (the photo hosting site that I use) at least, will be available again. Or will this anniversary serve as an opportunity to shut off those sites for good? The fact is that even though parts of the Internet are blocked, it does not mean that all free thought is blocked. They are just not able to post on western sites online.

I also think it is interesting that in the '80s students were interested in freedoms and democracy while the people born after 1980 and are students now are more concerned with material possessions. They want the best brand names of cell phones, shoes and clothes. At least the people I know aren't concerned that America is so free, but that it is so wealthy. This is by no means all Chinese, but a majority of people I have talked to and met are more concerned with the material, not the rights and freedoms. While according to an American mindset, non-democratic China's citizens are oppressed, but if citizens can still pursue what they want are they truly oppressed?

It's interesting that the Washington Post, NY Times, and Guardian websites have their stories about Tiananmen and nothing is blocked. I have seen the iconic "tank man" picture more times in the last 48
hours of news and blog browsing than I have in probably the last two years. It's interesting, it seems it's not the ideas China wants to shut out, but rather the opportunity to express them openly online and quickly find others with those same view points, which communities like Twitter would allow for.

Out with the Old

The alleyway, or hutong alongside my house is being redone. I think it must be part of Beijing's "make the old look better" campaign. Though it was a perfectly fine road, they decided to tear it up and put a small brick sidewalk on either side and then relay the road down the middle. Of course, the hutong is the widest where I live, near the road and that's not even fifteen feet wide. That means that the brick sidewalk in most places ends up being nil to one brick deep, not exactly suitable for walking.

The crew has had to do a lot of work. When I left for Sichuan two weeks ago it had just been torn up, now it's still a gravel road way. They had to lay the "sidewalks" and relevel all of the manhole covers to be level with the side paths as well as the soon to be layed road. 

The replacing of a perfectly good road isn't the only strange thing, there's also the hours the workers work. Generally they have begun work around six in the morning and worked until a break from nine to eleven, then lunch at about one, followed by work until around four. Then they'd finish. Sometimes they'd do some more work in the middle of the night around two to three in the morning. Originally they were driving their tractor up and down the hutong. This is arguably not the best choice for these small spaces as it took up the whole width of the hutong. In most places there was no way to get through, and if you were on the road and it was coming through you would have to tuck into another courtyard's doorway to get out of the way. Just hope you didn't have a bike with you. The worst was when they came through with the steamroller to flatten the gravel. My whole house, glass windows, and my bed were shaking as if there was an earthquake. I woke up to quite a shock at about six in the morning.

Fortunately they're getting close to finishing. I do have to say it does look better. But why the extra work? I think it has to do with the "old is bad" opinion that is prevalent in Beijing. Though I live in a culturally protected area (that means that it cannot be torn down) everyone is obsessed with fixing up their houses and replacing the "old city bricks and building materials" with new ones. Lately along East Drumtower Street there have been piles of "old" bricks, roof tiles, and two by fours with nails sticking out in all directions waiting to be picked up by large trucks that night. On top of these piles signs read "replacing old city building materials" followed by a phone number to call.

The other day I was talking to a man who is currently fixing up his place. Workers were carrying two by fours out of his courtyard and setting them in a pile on the sidewalk along East Drumtower. He remarked, "This wood is still pretty good, it's sixty years old." It seemed redundant to ask him why he's getting rid of the wood if it's still pretty good--it is sixty years old, after all.

Though the area is culturally protected and cannot be demolished for high-rises, but what is culturally protected if the opinion is "out with the old." The real question is, how far does "culturally protected" really protect if everyone does want to get rid of the old streets and old materials...

Mail Call

When I was in Sichuan last week I mailed myself a postcard. While, yes, this may be something that a crazy person or someone who is starved for attention would do, I had my reasons. I wanted to see what getting mail in my hutong apartment was like.

Usually, the letters I have seen sit in a little cubby hole in the wall just inside the main door. That's where I thought my mail would end up, too. But there's never that much mail there... and in fact I have never seen mail get delivered.

Well, this morning at about 8:30 I hear my name "Mu KaiLe!" shouted out on the hutong outside my house. "Is there a Mu KaiLe that lives here?" And I go down my ladder shouting "I'm Kaile! I'm Mu Kaile!!"

I open my door to find everyone, the mailman, children, the other families, all standing around inspecting the post card; all five households had come out to inspect this little letter, that I had sent myself. 

My neighbors know my name. I'm not sure why they all had to come out and inspect it, they could have slid it into the cubby. Can this scenario be attributed to the "mixed courtyard house" style of living?

At one time, several generations of the same family would have occupied the courtyard style house I live in currently, granted this would have been well over forty years ago, before the Cultural Revolution and probably even more prevalent pre-1949 China. At that time, everyone would have been responsible for the other family members in the house. Now, these houses have become home to three, four, and in my house five different families, all living around one courtyard. In Beijing they are called "big mixed coutyards" (大杂院 dazayuan).

It was interesting to have my name shouted, and it's interesting that everyone came out to inspect this letter, even though my neighbors know my name and where I live. The house that I live in doesn't have an actual mail box, like I said, there is only a cubby where mail is usually left, the mailman might not know about the cubby, so it might be a necessity for the mailman to shout for mail call. It's hard to say whether it is the protective nature of the courtyard house or simply "that laowai is getting mail?" that brought everyone out for mail call. But a good part of me is leaning towards the latter.

"Eating Bitter"

It's bizarre that in this city where on the streets you can see Chinese mainlanders driving Porsche Turbo Cayenne's and Range Rovers, while in other parts you can see outsiders, people not from Beijing, working all hours to make a living, which they will not use themselves, but instead send home to their families.

He's 26, married, with a three year old son. Works in a hotel's basement shower house. He's from Henan. And just another outsider. Though, after talking with him, I just wanted to write this little bit. He has no set income each month. Instead he gets paid based on how many people ask for the 搓澡 (cuozao) or loofa service. Quite literally it's the scrub down while taking a shower, you can lie down and this guy will do the work of scrubbing off the dead skin so you don't have to. While, to a foreigner, it might seem like a weird service, and something that should be done by oneself, in China it's a service for someone else to do. It might be best to think of it as a massage type service, which are perfectly normal

Well, he has no income except from what he makes each month from people paying him to scrub. It's 8 kuai each time for a 10 minute scrub. I originally assumed that he made an income from the hotel, but in reality, he's basically a squatter. He and his "coworker," the other guy that works in this shower house, sleep on the massage tables that are the benches in the locker room.

The income this Henan worker makes he sends home to his parents, who are watching his 3 year old son while he and his wife are here in Beijing working.

I bring up this man because he's 26. Born in 1983, he is of the '80s generation. 80后，the after '80 generation in the cities means that you were born after China's opening up, and that you can't 吃苦 (chiku) literally "eat bitter." Basically, you've been raised with a silver spoon, never known working hard without pay or worrying about whether or not you will eat today. While this may be true for people born in cities, in the countryside this new term "80 hou" just would not and can not apply.

It really speaks to these two worlds, which parallel each other in Chinese society. On the one hand there are the city people who may not be driving the Landrovers and living in international grade apartments, but who are still able and willing to provide for their children; and on the other hand, the countryside parents who must rely on their post-1980 children in order to live day to day.

"Place for Ratcide"

The other day I was walking to meet some people and I saw yellow flags placed in the corners of planters and patches of grass and dirt along the east third ring road. On closer inspection I found them to be placed around three or four bright blue objects about the size of a chocoloate easter egg...

And on closer inspection, they turned out to be ratcide. That's right, here in Beijing the ratcide is left out on the street, well, clearly marked, but still left out there for any unsuspecting dog, cat, or child that isn't being watched too closely. I'm not sure if this is how it's done in the States, but I was a little taken aback. I hope it got to its intended target!

Not for weak constitutions:

Pictures from Spring Festival celebrations in the Chinese Countryside have finally been added to my photos.

I warn those of you who do not like to see pictures of a dead pig not to click. These photos come from a pig slaughtering, as well as new year's celebrations at my friend's home.

Today guanxi saved my butt...

Today I went to the Community Service Center seeing if I could apply for the volunteer job that all the old retired people have: the Community Volunteer. 

I walked into my neighborhood service center, asked if I could be a 'red sleeve standard volunteer.' "Oh sure!" the boss said. Really? It's that easy? The response was basically, yeah why wouldn't it be? And a guy came in with a notepad to get my information. But, will Beijing people care that I'm a foreigner? "No, why would they? It's great!" Another woman said to someone else, "There are so many foreigners who live here, and all to busy to volunteer, this is great!"

So I follow the guy with the notepad into another room. We sit down and he starts taking my information. Getting down to it, and then 

he (Mr. Guo) asks: "Are you registered at the police station?"

me: "Well, here's the thing... I ... umm, I'm not registered. But that's because when I signed the least I immediately asked the landlord and the leasing agency where the police station was so that I could go get registered. 'oh, you don't have to do that' I'm pretty sure I have to, I had responded. 'No, the landlord will take care of that for you.' Well, I think I should go with him to do it. 'No no no!' So, they told me this, but it's my own fault, I should have gone to get registered, but I didn't know where the police station was and I was already registered to be in Beijing at my old address--my friends place... So I just didn't do it."

Mr. Guo: Oh... this is bad.

me: I understand.

Mr. Guo: Let me think about a way that we can make this work... we're going to have to go the police station. But Geez!! Two weeks! You're gonna get fined!

me: Yeah... I know.

Mr. Guo: Well... let me think about a way to make this work... you go get your passport and documents.

me: Alright, I'll be right back.

So biked back to my house to get my passport and lease agreement and then came back and found Mr. Guo.

Mr. Guo: Ok, I'm going to call someone at the police station, he'll be able to figure it out.

So he starts calling, but no answer. And he says, is Yang Xu at the police station today? Another man replies, no he's at home today. "Ohh Oh Oh." And gets out his cell phone to call Yang. No answer. He turns to me and says, "That's ok, I'll just say I let him know the deal, and it shouldn't be a problem." And we start to head to the police station, Yang calls back. 

"Yang Xu, Hello hello. I have a foreigner here... he moved into the neighborhood and I'm going to go to the police station and get him registered. But... (then he started to talk really quietly) there's a problem... he's been here two weeks and hasn't registered... Yeah.... Ok." And hung up the phone. He turned to me and said, "our guanxi is pretty good at the police station"

So we biked to the police station... and while we were waiting he was very antsy.  He eventually said something to one of the workers and then said, "well, it's 11:30, I've got to go, I have something to do. But you'll be fine, just say Yang Xu and you shouldn't have any problems... Call me if there is a problem." And he left.

After a little wait the woman took my passport filled out my information as if I was registering on time... I got my new registration slip and my passport back--no fine, no problem. 

I'm guessing the man Yang Xu is the station captain. The community branch I went to knows him pretty well, so this guanxi, the Chinese word for this kind of relationship connection saved me an afternoon of waiting and probably a 150 USD fine. While I made a mistake and didn't register on my own, I still was saved by the connections of this Community Service Center. I think that guanxi exists in all cultures, but the amount it is used and built on here in China seems to be more than in the West. There are just these favors which run into play, it does not necessarily have to be political, just who you know where that can help out along the line. Pretty interesting thing that saved me from my own mistake.

Everyone rides it, but no one knows where they got it...

So I bought a new bike yesterday. It was a tough call. I spent the day before asking around about where I can possibly get a secondhand bike. It just makes sense to get a second hand bike--they're decent bikes and cheap. Really cheap. Of course they're all stolen firsthand bikes--sold for nothing.

So everyone has a secondhand bike, but no one seems to know where they're sold. Literally everyone has one. Most answers I got were, "I don't know." That flat out, don't want to tell you answer. Then some would say, "They're just not easy to buy right now." Around the time of the Olympics, police really cracked down. And apparently the fines are still in place. A store could be fined 500 RMB for selling a 50 RMB bicycle.

And as I was asking around looking for a place that might sell a secondhand bike, I got to thinking. I decided that, rather than support thieves, I could buy a new bike. That way, I thought, I was demanding another stolen bike. My logic was that even my one action might help the entire trade.

Unfortunately the economic way of thinking kicked in... The bike's going to be stolen whether I buy a new one or a used one, so definitely should buy the used one for 50 RMB, rather than a new one which starts at 250RMB--even thought that used one was once somebody's new one, before it was stolen.

Found a place that looked profitable. I tried to find out if she sold them, no. Where does everyone get them? "They must have all bought them before the crackdown last summer." Yeah... I'm sure that all these people have been riding the same bike for over 6 months. That's unbelievable. Are they all far outside of the city? "No, they cracked down there too! My brother lives outside the 4th Ring Road and doesn't dare sell them!" She told me about the fines that are still in place.

I surrendered. It seems there are some things that foreigners just can't figure out. None of my Chinese friends have bikes... and rather than try to find a place that might sell one to me, I gave in and bought a Chinese brand--the Shanghai Forever, ironically--for 360 RMB, with lock, basket, and bell included. I think it was a decent price. 

Well, it's decent until it gets stolen, at least. And once it's stolen, I'm definitely going to dig deeper for those bikes that seem to be reserved for Chinese only.

Pictures added!

So I took some pictures of my hutong apartment. 

Not many, more to follow as I get more things set up. I didn't take any pictures of the downstairs, because I haven't done anything with it.

Take a look. I hope it does the place justice! If not, you'll just have to come visit it for yourself!

And now my Chinese friends are telling me, I can't just keep working on my place... I have to get a job. So... I guess now that I have a place that's my own to live, might as well find something to do that will be bizarre and interesting.

I moved!

In my quest to become Old Beijing and immerse myself in the culture of Beijing, I have moved into a small hutong house.

I decided to move to this style of house back in December, started searching, but left for the US. When I came back to China I continued to search. Found several possibilities, one I was going to take... then I left for Guizhou with Dary. He's a friend of mine who lives down there. I went to Zunyi with him last November. He invited me to go down there for a pig slaughtering. I of course could not refuse that, so told the real estate companies I was working with, that I would continue to search for houses when I got back after the new year.

When I got back, I went back to those places. Started the quest again. The place I was looking at before was pretty nice, one room inside a courtyard house, heat, a/c, some windows, but it was just so out of the way of everything. Pretty far from any subway line and only one bus line that passed near it. They said ok... I said that I was just not seeing any I really liked. They said that we can keep looking. I went to another appointment with a different company. They were showing me really expensive places that didn't seem quite worth it... one for 1600 (or about 230USD a month) It had it's own bathroom, and it was huge, but it just wasn't what I was looking for. They kept telling me about ones that were just too pricy. I was looking for places around 900 - 1000 RMB (around 140USD)

I went back to the other real estate company, and they just went through all the places I had looked at with them, asking what was wrong with that one? It had a funny smell, I said. What was wrong with that one? To far away from everything. What about that one? It just wasn't the one I wanted.

Then one woman, probably a little exasperated with me says, "ha, I know a place you can look at... it's 600 a month... and just around the corner" And I'm thinking, I'm surprised they're taking a westerner to see a 600 RMB per month place, usually that means it's pretty dirty. She then says, "yeah it's on the second floor." And I think, that's bizarre. The houses/apartments in this area are all on the ground floor. There are very few apartment buildings, and the buildings here are no more than 6 stories tall. It's a culturally protected area, which means that nothing can be torn down.

So we walk out of their small office, down the street a little ways and into 后鼓楼苑胡同 (hougulouyuan alley, literally behind the drum tower alley). She points up to the second floor and says that's the apartment, and goes to get the key from the woman who is renting the apartment. 

We walk in, and the first floor is a small room, pretty narrow and maybe 50 square feet, it has a single bed with no mattress in it and a ladder running up through a hatch in the ceiling. This hatch is maybe 2'4" square with a sliding door that could be slid closed and locked if the 50 pound ladder wasn't in the way. This "door" leads into the first upstairs room. It is the same size as the downstairs room, around 50 square feet and also fairly narrow. This room has a shorter ceiling, it's only about 6' tall, so I can't stand straight up in here. From here, there is a step up into another room, which is only reached through a 3'4" square doorway. This third room is larger than the first two rooms at about 95 square feet. It has a bed, but no mattress as no mattress could fit up the ladder and through the two small doorways into this room. It also has a sink. The room sits with the wall to the north, and windows to the east, south, and west. Though the westerly windows are a bit blocked off, the east and south have great views of the rooftops of the Gulou area.

I start walking around as the woman is saying how great this place is. It has cable TV, but no heat, no air conditioning, the bathroom is really close, transportation is easy, and the shower place isn't too far away either. It sits right across from a small restaurant and above a small courtyard house with 4 other rooms occupied. I know while walking around this place that I want it. The second I walked up the ladder I knew I wanted to live here. I was just laughing and really happy looking at this place. The woman was laughing, too, seeing me that happy, when we were heading out of the apartment, in the upstairs smaller room, she pointed to a lightbulb on the floor, and said "It's even got a lightbulb here for you to use!"

I said I'd sleep on it, and called it a day. I came out the next day to sign the lease. The company tried to get me 500 RMB a month for the place, but it ended up staying 600 despite bargaining. At any rate, 600 is pretty cheap for being a three room two floor small hutong penthouse in the middle of the city. Even though this small penthouse doesn't have a bathroom, heat or a/c, I consider it quite a find and am really happy to have moved in.

Playing catch

I was walking down the street and I saw the strangest thing. About fifteen men had gathered in one spot and were playing catch with their birds. That's the best way I can think to call it.

Each one had a bird on their hand and a small diameter but long pipe in their mouth. They would toss the bird up into the air and take a treat and shoot it up in the air for the bird to catch while soaring around and then they would call the bird back to their hand and give it another treat. It was really something to see, the birds would catch the treat in midair and soar around back to their hand.

I was mesmerized by it and just had to watch it for a while.