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.