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."